


The Infinite Fall

by HarmonizingSunsets



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Holidays, Kate and Anthony in the background, Long Shot, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Sharing a Bed, and they were roomates, as always there's many pop culture references, as well as Daphne and Simon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonizingSunsets/pseuds/HarmonizingSunsets
Summary: “Don’t worry. A month will just fly by.”Once he disappears into Eloise’s old room, Penelope winces because nothing just flies by when she’s with Colin.Time slows down, the seconds suspending in the air as Penelope leans up on her toes, trying to latch onto them....Colin needs a place to stay and Penelope has an empty room.You know where this is going, dear readers.
Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Comments: 40
Kudos: 260





	The Infinite Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t get these two cute dorks out of my head, so I wrote this fic. It’s based on the Netflix series, but it has a mix of elements from the books as well. Kate’s last name is Sharma to embrace the change Netflix announced. Also, sorry I kind of sideline the younger Bridgerton’s, I haven’t gotten to their books yet. 
> 
> This is really fluffy but I couldn’t help myself. I hope you enjoy it!

Penelope never intended to be a household name.

Being a household name wouldn’t be a big deal if she lived in a small town because there aren’t many people who live there in the first place. 

But she doesn’t live in a small town. She lives in London. So, it takes work to stand out amongst the busy city streets. Or, it takes coming from a high-standing family like the Bridgerton’s.

While Penelope’s family has a few connections, none of them make her near the level of fame that the Bridgerton’s have. They’re like the British version of the Kardashians, except none of them model, and they don’t have a reality show. 

Anthony is the oldest and inherited the family law firm and was society’s most beloved rake until he met Kate. The papers love portraying him as a “reformed playboy” who fell in love with Kate Sharma, the woman who was the prosecutor trying to indict one of his clients a few years ago.

Next was Benedict, the artist who was all the buzz in London. His paintings are featured in high-end galleries all over the city. 

The third member people tended to gush over the most was Colin. Those who read those ridiculous tabloids that are discarded on seats of the tube know Colin as the family's free spirit. He usually travels for work, and there’s no sign of him settling down anytime soon. 

Daphne is the fourth and the diamond of the family. She takes after her mother by doing a lot of charity work. Her marriage with Simon Basset also puts her on the map, as he’s a star rugby player. 

Eloise is the fifth and Penelope’s dearest friend. Despite being a Bridgerton, she’s also well-known due to her academic success. She received her Master’s degree in English and just started working at an acclaimed university. 

Hyacinth, Francesca, and Gregory are the other members of the family who are quite young. Regardless, they are still household names, and people anticipate they’ll one day be just as talked about as their elder siblings. 

There are many other families that London knows by name. While Penelope’s family is included on the list (albeit near the bottom), no one knows her by name…or really by anything. People never give her more than a passing glance. 

So, one day, Penelope decided to use that to her advantage. 

Her intention with the blog “The Whistle” has never been to spread fake gossip about people. Instead, she uses the blog, to tell the truth about every well-off family in London that she observes. 

Penelope never believed that people would ever read what she had to say. She thought they’d do what they always did, forget her words quickly and click away from the blog. 

But people didn’t click away. 

In fact, a great portion of London is subscribed to The Whistle. They use it to get all their news on London socialites. 

Maybe they wouldn’t read the blog if they knew it was her writing it. But Penelope decided to publish anonymously, under the pen name “Lady Whistledown.” This turned out to be a good decision, as many people weren’t fond of what the mystery writer of the blog exposed even though they were entertained reading it. 

But Penelope wasn’t offended when she heard someone complain about Lady Whistledown. The tone of their voices sounded more impressed that she knew about everything rather than upset. 

Penelope created the blog in the first place because she hates how everyone she grew up with acts like they’re on some reality show competition. She doesn’t mean shows like the Great British Bake Off, where they help one another carry their heavy dessert to the judging table and end each episode with a group hug. The London elite act more like those competitive American shows, where contestants spike their competitor's soup, so they come out the champion. 

While Penelope admits to enjoying the commotion that her posts create, it’s not about stirring up drama. In her posts, she tries to show that they’re all human. Everyone makes mistakes, has their highs and lows, and, especially, everyone is bound to fall in love every once in a while. 

However, Penelope has only truly fallen for someone once in her life, and she’s never gotten back up from it. 

“Penelope?”

She looks up from her laptop, seeing her best friend snapping her fingers in front of her face. 

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Eloise asks. 

“Um, yes.” 

“Then, what did I just say?” 

“Something about how your mother doesn’t understand why you hardly ever date, but it’s because no man can live up to the standard that Chris Evans has set?”

“That’s a good guess because I do say that a lot, but that’s not what I was talking about,” Eloise says, rolling her eyes. “Why do we get together to do work when we both are too distracted to talk to each other?”

“Because I work at one of the most popular entertainment news websites in England, and you’re a professor at a fancy university. If we didn’t do this, we wouldn’t have time for each other,” Penelope answers. “By the way, this is all your fault. If you hadn’t moved out of our flat, we wouldn’t be having this problem.” 

“It’s not my fault! The university has this stupid idea that professors should live close to campus so they can be readily available to students.” 

“Well, isn’t it better for the students if you’re readily available?”

“Yes, but I miss living with you,” Eloise moans, putting her head on the coffee house table. Patrons stop and look at her, but Penelope doesn’t feel embarrassed. Displays like this are common for Eloise. “I live in a flat that’s old enough to have as many ghosts as the campus has living students.” 

“But you don’t believe in ghosts.”

“I don’t, but I’m starting to. There are so many creaking noises in my flat. It reminds me of our middle school teacher, who had that old chair that would squeak every time he moved. I lost test points in that class because of that blasted noisy chair.” 

“I liked Mr. Henry,” Penelope notes, smiling at the memory of the days when she and Eloise were kids. “He thought the no hats rule the school had was stupid and let us wear them.” 

“Why do you care about that? I’ve never seen you wear a hat in the twenty-six years I’ve known you.” 

Penelope raises her chin defiantly. “It doesn’t matter if the rule affected me or not. What matters is that he was a good enough person to see how ridiculous the rule was.” 

“Leave it to you to find a way to compliment him,” Eloise snorts, lowering her mug. “You have such a hard time saying bad things about people.”

Penelope grimaces, knowing that isn’t true. She’s written some unsavory things about certain people in the past. But she’s only done that to the ones who deserved it, like Nigel Berbrooke, who refused to pay child support for his son, who he had with a woman he was cheating on his wife with. 

Also, Penelope has said some not-so-nice things about her own family. While most of it was true, like her mother’s poor fashion sense or her sisters’ ungodly loud laughs, she still feels a bit guilty that she posted about it on her blog. 

She’d also said one or two things about the Bridgerton’s. Ok…maybe she said more than one or two things about them and a few precautious situations they partook in. 

But most of the comments about them and others were kind, and those that were more critical were well-intentioned. That’s what counted, right? 

“So, what were you trying to tell me before?” Penelope asks, wanting to change the subject. 

“I wasn’t trying to tell you something. I’m trying to warn you,” Eloise said, settling back in her chair with a more serious look on her face. “As you know, the holiday season is upon us, which means all of my family will be back home.”

“They all come back every year,” Penelope shrugs. “Don’t worry. I’ll go with you to each dinner and caroling session.”

“I’m not warning you about that. What I’m warning you about is that my brother will be coming back home this year.”

Penelope understands what she means in an instant but feigns confusion. “Don’t you mean brothers? You have four.” 

“Yes, but which one would I be warning you about?”

“Probably Benedict,” Penelope says, avoiding Eloise’s eyes and moving her index finger around the rim of her mug. “Last year, he kept trying to get me to sit down and wear a wig on my head for a painting he was working on for some history-themed gallery. My neck was sore for days.”

Eloise arches an eyebrow. “Penelope, you know which one I’m talking about.”

“Colin and I are friends,” Penelope says with a smile that’s too bright to be real. “Why would you be warning me that he’s coming back to town?”

“Well, you know…because—.”

“Because I drunkenly called you last year at Danbury’s holiday party and told you I was in love with him?” 

“Well, yes, that would be why I’m warning you.” Eloise takes a deep breath and looks at Penelope sympathetically. “Look, I know last year when he came back was hard for you—.”

“It was great to see him like it always is,” Penelope interrupts, waving off Eloise’s worries even though her face feels hot and her stomach is filled with knots. “I drank too much of my mum’s spiked egg nog. That’s all.”

“So, you’re over him?”

“After that embarrassment, I resolved to see Colin as just one of my closest friends,” she says, her voice faint and not at all convincing. “There’s no feelings leftover for him whatsoever.” 

Eloise smiles sadly. “You’re a terrible liar.” 

Penelope wants to tell Eloise that she couldn’t be that bad of a liar. After all, she’s lied all these years about being Lady Whistledown. No one has discovered that it’s her. Not even Eloise, who has been quite determined to find out who she was ever since Penelope published the first post on The Whistle. 

“I have to go. I have my office hour is soon,” Eloise says, picking up her purse. “You staying here?”

“Yeah, I have another article write,” Penelope tells Eloise. “Don’t be too hard on your students.”

“What are you talking about? I’m a delight!”

“I think a comment I once saw on Rate My Professor would disagree.”

Eloise gracefully sticks her tongue out at Penelope before walking out of the coffee shop. 

Penelope turns back to her laptop, starting a new draft on the blog and beginning to type. 

Her readers aren’t the only ones who use The Whistle as a way to escape from thinking about their problems. She uses it for the same reason. But this time, it’s harder. As she writes about the Bridgerton siblings' homecoming, Colin’s smile appears in her mind and doesn’t go away. 

She’s still freefalling, and she doesn’t think there’s an end destination in sight. 

🐝 🐝 🐝

Penelope’s in her flat two nights later, definitely not thinking about how Colin will be back in the city later this month. 

Penelope sighs. Who was she trying to kid? She definitely was thinking about that. 

She sits with her phone, going through the many emails they’ve sent to each other over the past year. Colin’s a writer at a travel organization that reviews hotels. Every time he gets sent somewhere, they keep in touch by writing to one another. She honestly thought he’d stop writing after the first few emails. 

But he never did. 

Colin would write about the places he visited, but with more personal details about the place than his reviews. He’d also talk to her about nothing really at all, just random thoughts or musings that he wanted to share with her, like how he never understood people favoring the window seat on planes, as he thought that the aisle seat gives you more room to stretch your legs. Or he would tell her about how a painting on a wall in Greece had vividly bright colors, one’s that would put Penelope’s mother’s house décor to shame. 

She’d return the favor, writing him about her own life. She’d tell him an annoying thing one of her co-workers said, how she was trying to master baking the perfect scones but making a mess every time in her kitchen, or telling him about a new movie she’d seen or brand of shampoo she’d gotten that smelled like the lilacs Colin’s mother grew in her garden. 

Colin coming back to London shouldn’t be a surprise. He comes home every few weeks after his travel assignments. But the month of December is always different. He stays longer, using his sick time to take off the last two weeks of the month to spend with his family. 

It was one of the things Penelope loves about him, that he has such a strong affection for his family. 

Penelope puts down her phone, determined not to think about Colin or her childhood crush that’s never faded like childhood crushes are supposed to. 

It’s not that Penelope’s been waiting for him all this time. She’s had a few boyfriends throughout the years, but none of them quite made her feel like Colin did.

He made her heart race and steadily beat all at once. 

At that moment, she felt her heart stop as an abrupt knocking at the door startled her. 

She groans, thinking that it’s probably the neighbor kid who likes to knock on doors and run away. Penelope fully expects to see a child laughing as she opens the door. 

But instead, her heart begins to race and steadily beat at the same time. 

“Colin?” 

Colin steps forward, pulling Penelope into a hug that lifts her off of her feet. While she’s startled, she can’t help but react to his touch, throwing her arms around him.

“Hey, Pen,” he greets, smirking at her as he sets her down on the floor. “Nice shirt.”

She looks down and groans when she sees the t-shirt she’s wearing. It had teacups in multiple colors and says “Creativi _tea_ ” in big letters. 

“Eloise got it for me as a gift, even though she knows how I feel about puns.” 

Colin winces in understanding. “She’s never been a good gift giver. One year, she got me a bookend.”

“What’s wrong with a bookend?”

“Nothing, it’s the fact that I don’t own a bookshelf that renders a bookend a bit useless.”

Penelope crosses her arms. “Everyone should have a bookcase.”

“I don’t need one because I always take my books traveling, and then I forget them at whatever hotel I’m staying at.”

“I’m sure the maids of those hotels love that,” she says wryly. 

“I think they do. Finding a book is better than the other stuff they probably find in those rooms.”

Penelope nudges his arm, and Colin only laughs more at the disgusted look on her face. 

“So, are you going to let me inside?” Colin asks, peering into her flat from the doorway. “Or shall I camp out in the hall?”

“You don’t want to do that. There’s a kid who loves kicking anyone who lingers too long out there. His mum says it’s just a phase, but I don’t think a kicking phase is even a thing,” she says, opening the door wider and letting him through. When she closes it, she turns back to him with her brows raised. “So, what are you doing here?”

“I’m back for the holiday,” Colin says with a shrug. “You knew that. I told you that I was coming back this month in one of our emails.”

“But you’re early. You weren’t supposed to be back for another two weeks.” 

“My assignment ended sooner than expected. Romania was dull, so I booked an earlier flight back home.”

“Alright, but what are you doing here, in my flat?”

Colin puts down his suitcase that he’d dragged in, looking a bit more bashful. “I came here because you’re the first person I wanted to see when I got back.”

Penelope feels her face heat. While she can tell that he isn’t lying, there’s more to his sudden appearance at her flat than just that. 

“You’re also here because you’re avoiding your mother, aren’t you?” Penelope guesses, biting back a smile. 

Colin sighs, looking disappointed that she’d hit the mark right on the head. 

“She’ll ask me how my trip was. But then when I begin to explain, she’ll keep interrupting, asking, ‘who is that again?’ ‘Did you bring sunscreen?’ ‘Colin, how could you jump off a cliff?’”

“You jumped off a cliff?” she gasps. 

“I jumped off a cliff and into crystal blue water,” he corrects. “It was perfectly safe. Look, there’s not one scratch on me.”

He extends his arms and does a turn for her. Penelope scoffs, but she can’t help her eyes wandering when he turns his back for a few seconds. 

“So, where are you staying?” 

“Oh, I booked a room at the hotel across from here,” he says, pointing out her window.

She follows his finger, and her shoulders dropping when she sees what building he’s pointing to. 

“Not Huntington’s Hotel?”

His smile drops at her tone. “Uh yes, why?”

“You had to put down a deposit before you arrived, right?” 

“Yes.”

She sighs, sitting down on the couch. “You’ll never see that money again.”

“What do you mean?” 

“That place isn’t a hotel.”

“What?”

“It’s a scam. It’s actually an office building,” she tells him. “The site for it was done by some online scammer. The images of the inside are ripped from a hotel Wales.” 

Colin slumps down onto the couch beside her. “Well, that explains why the man at the front desk looked so confused when I tried to hand him my luggage.”

“Colin, what are you going to do? It’s tourist season around here. All the hotels are booked up.” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Could you stay with your mom?” 

“She’s re-doing the left-wing of the house where my old room is. Unless I want to hear hammers banging at 5 AM, it’s not such a good idea.”

“What about Daphne’s?”

“No, that won’t work either. I love my nieces and nephews, but spending a month with them and I’ll come out concedes in macaroni and glitter.” 

“You’d probably look rather good in macaroni.”

Colin grins. “Why, thank you.”

“Well, there’s also Anthony’s,” Penelope suggests. “It might be hectic over there because Kate’s pregnant, and his protectiveness is in full force, but he has a guest room. Or you could stay at Benedict’s, even though it’s a bit farther—.”

“What about here?” Colin asks her abruptly, his eyes lighting up at the prospect. 

“What?”

“Eloise is living at the university now. Leaving a room open here, right?”

Penelope fidgets on the couch. “You—you want to stay here?”

“It would give us a chance to catch up and,” he pauses, his excitement dwindling and looking guilty. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invite myself over. It was only a suggestion. Feel free to kick me out. My mother would if she’d heard my lack of manners.”

She waves him off, trying to calm her heart that’s pounding hard in her chest at the thought of him staying here, around her so closely, for almost an entire month. 

“No, it’s fine. I mean—I’d love to have you.”

“Really?” he asks hesitantly. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Penelope assures, and then a small smile forms on her lips. “Besides, I don’t want you to be covered in glitter for the Bridgerton family holiday photo.”

“I forgot about that,” he groans, leaning his head back onto the cushion. “Mother sent us all pictures of the god-awful sweaters she ordered. There’s even one for Kate’s dog Newton.”

“He’s invited, even though he knocked over that whole table of food last year?” 

“Kate talks about him as if he’s her blood, while Anthony talks about him as if he’s the spawn of Satan. So, his presence it’s mandatory because everyone loves Kate, and everyone loves torturing Anthony as much as possible.” 

Penelope laughs and stands up. “Well, shall I show you to your room?”

“Why, thank you, madam,” Colin says with an exaggerated bow. He stands up and linking his arm through hers. When they reach the door, he has a soft grin. “Don’t worry. A month will just fly by.”

Once he disappears into Eloise’s old room, Penelope winces because nothing just flies by when she’s with Colin. 

Time slows down, the seconds suspending in the air as Penelope leans up on her toes, trying to latch onto them.

🐝 🐝 🐝

Penelope tiptoes to the bathroom as quietly as possible the next morning to take a shower. She doesn’t know why. It’s not that early when she gets up. But she spent almost the entire night going over the predicament she found herself in. She needs to make this month as painless as possible for herself. So, waking up Colin and seeing him emerge with his hair ruffled adorably from sleep isn’t a sight she wants to see.

But as she enters the kitchen after drying her hair with the blow dryer on the lowest setting possible to lessen the noise, she sees that Colin is already up. He’s eating a bowl of cereal and smiles at her when he sees her. 

“Good morning,” Penelope greets him a bit curtly, avoiding his eyes as she goes to the fridge.

“Good morning, Pen,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m eating the Shreddie’s. I know you don’t like them because you once said they taste like sugar-coated cardboard, so I figured they were leftover from when Eloise lived here.”

She grabs a yogurt. “It’s fine. You’re welcome to anything I have.”

Penelope goes to sit on the chair near the window. There’s a bit of awkward silence. The only sound in the room is the clanking of Colin’s spoon as it hits his bowl and the sound of cars honking outside. 

Colin clears his throat after a while and sits next to her. “So, you going to the office today?”

“No, I have the day off.”

“Perfect, which means we can spend it catching up,” he says, edging closer to her. “That is if you didn’t have any other plans.”

“Not really. My only plans were to decorate the flat. But I hate doing it. I’m never tall enough to hang up the garland over the window and get bored halfway through decorating the tree. I end up having to push it against the wall to hide the empty backside.”

“Well, then it’s good I’m here because I love decorating.”

“You do?”

“My mum made us all decorate the house together for every holiday,” Colin answers as he looks around the flat. “Do you have a tree?”

Penelope nods, heading towards her closet. She pulls out the box in the very back and takes out the small plastic tree. 

“Uh, it’s very...pink,” Colin says, gaping at the horrendous neon color. 

“My mum got it for me,” Penelope says, even though that was probably a given. “We always had plastic Christmas trees growing up. I wanted a real one, but my mother complained about them being too much work.” 

“Then let’s go get one,” Colin declares. “You deserve a real tree. Not…whatever that is.”

Penelope laughs and heads out the door alongside Colin. 

They end up finding this small Christmas tree sale a few blocks away. The salesperson is very patient with them as Colin sniffs around every tree to find the one with the most festive smell. 

Eventually, they find the tree they want and split the cost of it. But, they have to carry it back to her place, which is a bit of a struggle. They end up stopping multiple times to rest their arms. Colin gets out his phone as they sit on a bench about a mile away from her flat. Penelope’s eyes widen once she realizes what’s on his screen. 

“You still read The Whistle?” she asks. 

He wipes his sweat off his brow and shrugs. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’ve been traveling for the past year.”

“Which is why I’ve continued to read the blog, to keep me updated on things going on around here,” he explains, skimming through the post that Penelope uploaded this morning. “But she doesn’t write that often about you, which I’ve considered writing a strongly worded comment about.” 

“Well, we talk in all of our emails. You already know what’s been going on with me.” 

“Yeah, but it’s not the same as being here,” Colin says, beginning to frown. “I’ve missed everyone. I’ve missed you.”

Penelope tries not to focus on the fact that Colin’s phrasing separated her from everyone else to emphasize missing her over others. But that emphasis is probably only there because she wants to hear it. 

“Well, you’re here now,” Penelope says, brushing her shoulder against his. 

“That I am.” The corners of his lips turn up, and he nudges her shoulder before standing up from the bench. “We better get this tree up to your place. It’ll probably take us a while to get it through the door.”

She nods, and they both grab one end of the tree and begin walking again. Eventually, they make it up to her flat. They’re lucky that no one else was in the lift, so they don’t have to take the stairs. 

They decide to place the tree on the other side of the television, near an outlet. That way, they can plug in the Christmas lights she dug out of her closet and wrap them around the tree. She doesn’t have many ornaments, but they make do by spreading them out on the branches. 

Colin connects his Bluetooth to Penelope’s speaker. She laughs at the different Spotify playlists he’s made for the different places he’s been to. The playlist inspired by his trip to the Pacific Northwest in America is rather indie and makes her picture running through a vast green forest in the rain. 

Once they finish the tree, they sit down on the couch, beginning to dig into some snacks they got out earlier. 

“So, tell me everything,” Colin says, his hands reaching into a bag of goldfish. 

She takes the few crackers that Colin wordlessly hands out to her. “There’s not much to tell. I get up, go to work, meet Eloise for coffee or drinks about once a week, go home, and repeat.”

“Each thing you said has more to it than just a one-worded summary,” Colin insists. When Penelope doesn’t say anything, he sits up. “Fine, I’ll help you. Let’s start with you getting up in the morning. What’s your routine?”

“Well, you saw me this morning. I took a shower, ate some yogurt, and sat by the window.” 

“Why do you sit by the window?” 

She quirks her head as she considers this. “Oh, I guess I like to look out to the city around me, watching people starting their days on the street below.” 

Colin nods his head, encouraging her to continue. 

“Each person I see out there has a story. They’re not just a guy who grumbles about spilling his coffee or a girl who sits reading a newspaper on the bench. They all are so much more than that and have reasons for everything they do,” Penelope describes, turning her head towards the window in question. “Looking out the window before I go outside to do whatever I have to do reminds me that even though it doesn’t feel like it sometimes, we’re all in this together. We’re all walking down the road and hoping something good meets us on the other side.”

When she looks back at Colin, she’s taken aback by his expression. It’s a little bit in awe and a little bit surprised. But not the kind of surprise that turns your world view inside out. Instead, he looks more like he’s realized something he already knew. As if a part of a picture he’s looking at has been revealed, adding context to the entire photograph. 

“What?” Penelope asks him, trying her best not to fidget under his stare. 

“Nothing, it’s just…the way you see things—see people, is amazing,” he states, smiling at her. “You have a gift, Pen.” 

“For people-watching?” 

“No, for seeing people as they are and who they can be at the same time.”

Penelope doesn’t take compliments that well, mumbling something like a thank you before changing the subject. “So, do you want to hear about my job?” 

“Yes,” he nods. “I want to hear everything.”

She ends up talking to him about the different interviews she’s had with celebrities for the online publication. They continue to decorate the flat as they talk and start making paper snowflakes made from empty notebook pages to put up on the walls. 

“Pen, you must be joking,” Colin says, leaning up to hang a strand of the snowflakes they connected using string over the door. 

“I’m not,” Penelope insists. “I complimented Dan Levy’s shoes, and we started talking, and we ended up getting coffee after the interview. I have his phone number.”

“That’s amazing.” He turns to her, swaying on his feet, trying to look casual. “On a particularly unrelated note, can I use your phone real quick? Mines out of battery.”

She crosses her arms. “Really, the phone that’s been plugged into the charger by the wall the entire time?” 

“Yes, I dropped it in the water in Costa Rica a few months back. It hasn’t worked right ever since.”

“What do you need my phone for?” 

He scratches his neck anxiously. “Uh, because I need to send a text.”

“To Dan Levy?” she deducts, smirking knowingly. “No, I don’t think so.” 

“I wasn’t going to text him! I was going to text Eloise, tell her that I’ve completely changed the whole decor of her room.” 

“Oh really, so you don’t want to text Dan Levy a gif of him saying ‘eat glass’ because you send that on your family’s group chat all the time?”

Colin puts his hands on his hips. “No, I was actually going to tell him that the ‘fold-in-the-cheese’ scene from _Schitt’s Creek_ was stolen from a conversation I had with my mother, and I deserve compensation.”

“How would he even know about that?” 

“Daphne live-streamed it on Instagram, and she has so many followers, he could’ve seen it,” he lies, taking a step forward and reaching for the phone in her hand. “I also want to ask him where he gets his sweaters.”

She steps over towards the couch away from him, safeguarding her phone. “Nope, that is not happening.”

“Please, Pen!” 

“No! Plus, you don’t need any more sweaters. Your suitcase is practically overflowing with them.”

“It’s chilly in London!” 

“It’ll feel a lot colder in here if you send that text,” she warns. 

“Fine. I understand,” Colin sighs with exaggeration, lowering his hands and walking towards her slowly. “I’ll just come over by the tree and fix the angle of the—,” he swoops forward suddenly, grabbing her hand that’s holding her phone. “Aha!” 

“Colin!” 

“Give it to me.” 

“Never!” Penelope shouts, grinning widely as she tightens her fist around her phone. 

Colin grabs her arm and tries to shake the phone out of her hand. Penelope wriggles, trying to escape his grasp. She ends up falling backward during the tussle. She lands on the couch behind them with Colin landing on top of her. 

He holds both of her wrists down onto the arm of the couch behind her head, trying but failing to pull the phone out from underneath her fingers. 

“Penelope Featherington, you have a strangely strong grip.” 

“Colin Bridgerton, you have a strangely sharp knee.” 

Colin glances down to his knee, which had been resting on top of her leg. He looks apologetic, repositioning himself, so his knees are on both sides of her hips, straddling her.

When his eyes meet hers again, the mood between them instantly shifts.

Colin swallows thickly, a more heated look overtaking his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he whispers. 

Penelope feels her heartbeat quicken as Colin’s hold on her grip loosens, but the proximity of his body above hers grows closer. 

“It’s okay,” she says, sounding a bit breathless. 

She sees his eyes drift down to her lips, and she follows his actions, looking at his. 

The nearness of him has an intoxicating effect on her, everything around them starting to blur and leaving him in complete focus. She could easily raise her head and bridge the distance between them. It would take mere seconds.

Colin licks his lips. “Pen…” 

As his head lowers an inch towards her, the door behind them slams closed.

“What the hell?”

They both look towards the door, seeing her best friend and his sister standing there watching them with wide eyes. 

“Eloise!” Penelope exclaims, jolting upright. 

Colin jumps off of the couch. “We were just—.” 

“No, don’t tell me,” Eloise interrupts, squeezing her eyes closed. “I don’t want to know.”

“It was innocent, really,” Penelope defends. 

“Of course, because my brother straddling my best friend on a couch with their breaths panting is the picture of innocence,” Eloise retorts.

Colin gestures to Penelope’s hand. “I was reaching for her phone.” 

“What did you want her phone for?”

“To text Dan Levy.”

Eloise’s expression melts into understanding. “Oh, I get it. I tried doing that when I heard she has Emma Watson’s email, but her grip is strangely strong.”

“I know, right?” Colin agrees and gathers his breath. “Now that that’s settled, what are you doing here, Eloise?” 

“I left some of my clothes here, but I think I should be asking you that question,” she says, arching her brow. “You’re not supposed to be here until another two weeks.

“I came home early.”

Penelope stands from the couch next to Colin. “Romania apparently isn’t filled with vampires as he assumed.”

“I didn’t think that!”

She narrows her eyes. “Colin, you told me you brought plastic fangs with you.”

“Only as a precaution.”

“How you got the best grades in school besides me, I’ll never understand,” Eloise rolls her eyes at him. “What I also don’t understand is why you’re here, in our flat.”

“Technically, it’s now only Penelope’s flat,” Colin points out. 

“My name is still on the lease. So, it’s still half mine!” 

“If it was still yours, then where did all your steamy romance novels go? They’re not in the usual place you put them, under your mattress.”

“I will not let you make me feel embarrassed about reading those. The romance genre is the backbone of the publishing industry right now.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel embarrassed about them. I just know you’d never leave a place without them,” he says, smiling triumphantly. “Which means you consider your place at the school to be your home now.”

Eloise puffs out her chest. “Many places can be your home, but this flat isn’t your home. So, I ask again, what are you doing here?” 

Penelope clears her throat, stepping between the two Bridgerton’s, fearing that one will charge towards the other. 

“Colin’s staying with me.”

Eloise turns towards Penelope, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, is he?” 

“Yeah, it turns out I shouldn’t book a hotel that charges for the weight of your baggage,” Colin says.

“Is that even a thing that hotels do?” 

“No, which is why they laughed when I was weighing my baggage over the phone and wiring them over the money.” 

“You stay at hotels for a living. How did you know it was a scam?” 

“Because I’m a trusting person,” Colin defends, looking offended. 

Eloise turns towards Penelope. “Can I talk to you alone for a moment?” 

“Of course,” Penelope says and looks towards Colin before walking towards Eloise. “You want to try to put the tree topper on while I’m gone?”

“No, the tree topper is a sacred event, you should be there for it. I’ll just try to get that blasted singing snowman to work,” he says, pointing at the battery-powered stuffed snowman she got at a thrift store a few years back. 

Penelope walks with Eloise into her room. Once Eloise closes the door behind them, she flinches as she sees the pity in her eyes. 

“Penelope—.” 

She puts a hand up. “I know what you’re going to say, but you don’t have to say it.”

“Good, then maybe you can say it for me,” Eloise exhales, sitting down on her bed. “I gave a two-hour lecture today, my throat is a little sore.”

“You’re going to say that Colin staying here is a bad idea. That I’m not over him and being in close proximity to him will only increase all of those feelings.”

Eloise nods. “You’re off to a good start.”

“But, Colin staying here could actually help me move on,” Penelope reasons, wringing her hands together. “It will make me see how we’ve both changed over the past few years, and we’re in such different places of our lives.” 

“You seemed to be in the same place on the couch a few minutes ago,” Eloise mumbles. 

Penelope ignores the innuendo. “Plus, when you live with someone, you find out about all their annoying habits and make you want to be as far away from them as possible.”

Eloise looks intrigued. “Oh really? What annoying habits of mine made you want to be as far away from me as possible?”

“Eloise, nothing made me want to run far away from you,” Penelope says. “I mean, sure, you never cleaned up your dishes until the sink was overflowing and you blasted music in the shower at 6 AM, which wasn’t pleasant to wake up to, but—.” 

“But despite all of that, you still loved me,” she finishes, standing up from the bed. “So, even though you may discover some annoying traits about Colin, it doesn’t mean your feelings for him will go away.”

Penelope sighs. “Eloise, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“You’re my friend. I have to worry about you,” Eloise states firmly. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Penelope assures. 

Before Eloise can press further, they’re interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“Hey Pen, ready to top the tree?” Colin asks. 

“Yes, I am.” 

She gives Eloise a pleading look. Eloise puts up her hands, signaling that she’s going to let this go—at least, for now. 

When they walk into the living room, she sees Colin holding the silver star in his hands. 

“Aren’t you going to put it up?” Penelope asks. 

“No, you should do the honors,” he says, holding it out to her.

She smiles, taking the tree topper. She then steps onto the chair Colin placed in front of the tree while hanging ornaments earlier. She struggles to remain balanced while leaning forward. 

“Here, I’ll help you,” Colin says, gripping her waist to keep her steady. 

Penelope sticks the tree topper on the tree, his hands keeping her steady but somehow also making her feel off-balance. 

“Does it look okay?” she asks, looking back down at Colin. 

“Yeah,” he answers, but his eyes remain on her instead of the tree. “It looks beautiful.”

She’s caught in his stare until Eloise clears her throat from behind them. 

“Colin, mum wants me to tell you to come to dinner on Friday.”

“You texted her that I was here?” 

“Of course, I did,” Eloise shrugs.

“Why would you do that?” he groans. 

“Colin, what’s the big deal?” Penelope asks, stepping off of the chair. “You were going to have to tell her you were here eventually.”

“I know. I just thought I’d have a few more days to prepare. I love her, but it’s like she’s shootings a firing squad of questions everyone I come back from a trip.”

“You’re invited too, Penelope,” Eloise adds. 

Penelope blinks in surprise. “I am?” 

“Yes, she probably wants to compensate you for putting up with my brother.” 

“Then she owes me many years full of fees.” 

“Hey!” Colin protests. When Penelope turns to him, arching her brow, he relents. “Okay, that’s a fair barb.” 

She laughs, and the three of them end up finishing decorating the place together. 

When Eloise leaves, Penelope and Colin both say goodnight, parting in their rooms. 

But the memory of Colin’s hands on her waist lingers in her mind. She ends up sleeping on top of her blanket to dissuade the ghost warmth that prickles her skin. 

🐝 🐝 🐝

“Seriously, why are you so nervous?” Penelope asks a few days later, walking up the steps to his childhood home. “You’re close with your mum.”

“I know.” 

“Then what’s going on with you? You’re worried about something.” 

He stops as they reach the top step, regarding her quizzically. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“How do you see through me in a way no one else does?” 

“Maybe I’m psychic,” Penelope jokes. “They should make a crime show where I see visions of all the celebrities I interview, and I have to protect them from getting murdered by their agents.” 

“I’d definitely watch that show.”

She puts a hand on his arm. “Seriously, I know somethings wrong. What is it?” 

He exhales, creating a puff of hair through the cold of the night. 

“I quit my job.” 

“You did?” she asks. He nods. “But why? You love traveling.”

“I do, and I love getting to experience all the places the company sent me to, but I have to write these reviews about pillowcases and the food at every stuck-up hotel restaurant,” he explains with distaste. “I realized when I was writing you about what the place was actually like, that I wanted to write for myself and not under some company.” 

“Colin, that’s amazing! Why would you be afraid to tell her all of that?”

“Because going out on my own is risky. I could write on a blog that no one will ever read,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Everyone in my family has a purpose. Anthony runs dad’s law firm, Benedict’s a renowned artist, Daphne is a philanthropist, Eloise is a professor, and I’ve always been floating. My mum will think I’m even more of a failure by quitting the only steady job I’ve had.” 

“Colin, your mother doesn’t think you’re a failure.” He scoffs at that. “It’s true! My mother doesn’t even read any of my articles, but your mum reads everything you’ve ever written for the company. Not because she loves reviews on how fluffed your pillows were, but because she loves you. If you show her that travel writing is something you’re passionate about, she’ll support you.”

Colin looks less anxious but frowns at her. “I’m sorry that your mother doesn’t see how talented you are.”

“I mean, I understand why she doesn’t,” Penelope shrugs, forcing a smile. “I write top ten lists and interview celebrities about their cats. It’s not important.”

“They _are_ important,” Colin stresses. When Penelope lets out a disbelieving sound, it’s his turn to lay a comforting hand on her shoulders. “I’ve read your articles, Pen. You don’t just ask people if they played jokes on set or what scene was the most fun to shoot. You ask them real questions. You put so much effort into showing who all the people you talk to truly are, and you make them feel at ease and open to talk to you. I mean, Eddie Redmayne told you about owning an ice cream parlor in his house. You think he tells that to just anyone?” 

“Wow, that’s specific. You do read my articles.” 

“Every single one,” Colin says softly. 

The chill in the airbrushing against her cheek, making her shiver. 

“We should go inside,” she advises, stepping onto the porch. 

Colin nods, joining her on the porch and knocking on the door. 

They wait a few moments before Violet Bridgerton answers the door, a bright smile on her face. 

She blubbers about them, standing out in the cold, pulling them inside. Penelope chuckles as she hugs Colin so fiercely that she’s afraid for his oxygen levels. 

As they sit down for dinner, Eloise isn’t too far behind, sitting next to Penelope and muttering something about a class running long. They’re also joined by the three younger Bridgerton’s. Although, they mostly converse with themselves at the other end of the table. Penelope notices a few extra plates set up, and she wonders only for a moment who they could be for when the doorbell rings again. 

Mrs. Bridgerton explains that upon hearing of Colin’s early return, Anthony and Kate wanted to stop by for dinner to see him. This shouldn’t be too surprising, as Anthony and Kate only live a few houses away, residing the closest to their childhood home out of all the elder Bridgerton siblings. 

When they enter the room, Penelope immediately greets Kate with a warm hug, as the two have been good friends ever since she came into Bridgerton’s lives. 

As they eat, Mrs. Bridgerton grills Colin for details about the places he's visited over the past few months, just as Colin said she would. Penelope and Eloise laugh at one another as they see him try and quickly answer questions before Mrs. Bridgerton fires off another one. Anthony chimes in now and again with a question of his own, egging on his mother and making Colin shoot him death glares. 

Penelope sits at the edge of her seat, waiting for Colin to break the news about quitting his job. But as they begin to finish eating, it still hasn't come up. She raises her brow at him, but her attempt to silently converse with him across the table fails as Mrs. Bridgerton turns her questions to Penelope. 

“So, Penelope, how’s work?”

“It’s good,” Penelope smiles politely. “Thank you, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Violet?”

Penelope winces. “Hopefully not too many more times.”

“It’s curious that the Whistledown woman doesn’t move her blog to a bigger publication like yours,” Anthony says.

Penelope acts aloof, shrugging. “She probably likes the freedom of self-publishing.”

“But it leaves her vulnerable. She doesn’t have a company to help protect her identity or help her dispute defamation claims.”

“She’s been doing it for five years,” Kate says from beside him. “I think she knows what she’s doing.”

“I’m sure she does. But once people get too comfortable, that’s when people are most likely to take advantage of you.”

Eloise leans back in her chair with interest. “For someone who hates Whistledown, you seem worried pretty worried about her well-being.”

“I don’t hate her,” Anthony counters sincerely. “I mean, was I thrilled that she broke the news of Kate and my engagement before we could tell anyone? No. Did I like that she wrote about me being a man whore, also no, but—.” 

“But you were kind of a man whore,” Eloise interjects.

"Eloise!" Violet protests.

“Mom, it’s true!”

“But I don’t hate her,” Anthony continues, ignoring Eloise’s claim and Kate’s snort of agreement. “I respect her. She’s never wrong, and she’s committed to maintaining integrity.”

“True,” Kate says. “She could’ve told details of our engagement, which were really interesting, but left them out.” 

“Oh?” Penelope asks, even though she indeed knows the details.

“They got engaged because of a bee,” Colin whispers to her.

“That’s not true,” Anthony says.

Kate tosses back and forth her head, her wild brown curls bouncing as she does. “It’s kind of true.”

“I was playing to propose anyway,” Anthony insists, putting his arm around Kate. “The bee just kind of escalated events.”

“Well, perhaps Whistledown knew that but respected both of you enough to leave that bit of information out,” Penelope suggests.

“How does she know everything anyway?” Violet asks.

“She’s got to have spies. They could be sitting at this very table,” Colin says, wiggling his brows at everyone.

Violet huffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Colin.”

“It’s true. I think Eloise is one.”

“If I were, I wouldn’t tell you,” Eloise says, sipping her glass with a gleam in her eyes.

“What about you Pen, are you a spy?” Colin asks.

She turns up her head, pondering this to save face. “I do know how to blend into the background. You’d be surprised what I’ve overheard at parties over the years.”

Colin laughs. “They’re never dull, that’s for sure.” 

“What parties are you going to?” Eloise cuts in. “I end up escaping to my room out of boredom and waiting for everyone to go away.”

Violet sighs, turning back to Colin to change the subject, “So, how come your work sent you home early from Romania?”

He fidgets in his chair. “Actually, I left early.”

“Can you do that?”

“You can if you quit.”

The room goes silent, and everyone’s eyes turn to Colin.

He begins to explain what he told Penelope about starting his own travel blog. She beams at him in pride. Every once and a while, as he speaks, he catches her eye. When he does, he seems to relax a bit more. 

By the time he’s finished, everyone’s recovered from their surprise. It’s Violet, however, who speaks up first.

“That’s wonderful, darling.”

Colin sits up in his chair. “It is?”

“Of course!” she says, reaching over and squeezing his hand on top of the table. “If this is what you want, I’m happy for you.”

The rest of the table begins congratulating Colin. Their eyes lit with so much joy for him pursuing what makes him happy. The scene is heartwarming, but Penelope can’t help but feel jealous, wishing that her family had the closeness the Bridgerton’s had.

Most meals with her family were spent in silence, with a few words spoken by her mother about her sister’s accomplishments, never about Penelope’s. While she didn’t want to be boasted about, she yearned for the kind of support that the Bridgerton’s showed one another.

After a few minutes pass, Penelope mumbles some excuse and gets up from the table. She doesn’t think anyone even notices her leave. But as she goes outside to the back deck, she hears the sliding door open behind her.

“Pen?” Colin voices, joining her side. “Are you alright?”

She pulls her coat over her chest, bracing it from the cold. “I’m fine. I just needed some air.”

Neither of them speaks for a minute, resting their hands on the railing of the deck, observing the city around them.

“You know, when I visit places out in the middle of nowhere where you can see all the stars and the vast plains, I think about all the beauty we miss out on living here,” he starts to say quietly. “But then I come home and realize this town is beautiful too. The lights bleed through the night, and the bright-colored houses display the fullness of life inside them.”

“I like the country, but there’s something about living here. There’s so much happening around us,” Penelope agrees. “It makes the blood in your veins feel like they’re vibrating.”

Colin’s eyebrows scrunch together. “That sounds painful.”

“No, I mean it in a good way. Like how the electric current through a wire gives it its power.”

“There must be wires underneath your skin then because you do have this electric nature about you.”

“Are you saying I’m some sort of cyborg?”

“No, a cyborg is a being with organic and biometric body parts. I’m saying that I think you’re an android, a robot with a human appearance.”

“That would explain why I’m so different than my family,” she jokes, but the words come out sounding bitter. She takes a deep breath in and out, and Colin waits for her to continue. Eventually, she meets his eyes. “I love spending time with your guys. But it sometimes is a bit bittersweet. I wish my family were like yours. That my mother would look at me and love me without making a list of things about me that need improvement.”

“I think when someone in your family is doing something you don’t understand, it’s scary. You feel disconnected from helping them.”

“I’m not asking for any of their help. I’m just asking for their acceptance. How hard is that?”

“It shouldn’t be hard,” Colin contends, and she feels a little bit better knowing that he shares the same sentiment. He leans forward conspiratorially. “You want to sneak into the kitchen and eat Hyacinth’s ice cream?”

She brightens. “Can we use the fancy sundae bowls?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, his eyes gleaming. “We’re not animals.”

They go back inside, sneaking to the kitchen. Francesca walks in on them a few minutes later, and they give her a scoop of ice cream and promise her not to tell Hyacinth about what she saw.

Perhaps she should’ve chosen Francesca as one of her spies long ago, as paying her in ice cream seems an effective way to guarantee secrecy. Hyacinth’s none the wiser that her gallon of ice cream is a little bit lighter when she comes in to eat some later.

When it’s time to leave, they linger in the doorway as Penelope puts on her jacket.

Violet points above them. “Oh, look, you two are under the mistletoe!”

They both look up, seeing the small piece of mistletoe dangling over their heads.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Hyacinth asks pointedly, and it makes Penelope wonder whether she knew all along about them eating her ice cream, and this is her vengeance.

“It’s a silly tradition,” Penelope chuckles nervously. She looks at Colin for back-up and notices that his ears’ tips have gone a bit red. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t want to if you don’t want to,” Colin says.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t want to, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t feel like I have to, so if you want to, then we can…but, if you don’t want to, then we don’t —.”

“Oh, just kiss her already,” Anthony cuts in. “Just one, on the cheek, so we can all get through the door and go home.”

“Well, I don’t want to disrespect the traditions of the household,” Penelope says, fidgeting with the cuffs of her coat. “My mother would be appalled if she found out I wasn’t obeying proper etiquette. She’d come home all the way from her trip to Aspin.”

“You’re right,” Colin agrees a bit eagerly. “We wouldn’t want that.”

“I don’t think anybody wants that,” Eloise whispers to her mother, causing Violet to fight back a smirk.

Colin inches towards Penelope slowly, and she feels time slow down with his movements. His face hovers near hers, meeting her eyes questioningly as if asking for her permission. Penelope nods, and she closes her eyes as he brushes his lips gently against her cheek.

He lingers there for a few seconds longer than normal before pulling away.

When she opens her eyes, Colin is staring at her with a dazed look on his face.

They flinch away from each other when they hear someone clearing their throat.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, that was beautiful, but my feet are dying in these heels,” Kate says, looking uncomfortable as she moves her feet back and forth. “The pregnancy is making my feet swell, and these stilettos were a mistake.”

Colin and Penelope both apologize, stepping out the door and out of the way so Kate can walk past them. But just as Kate takes a few steps, Anthony sweeps forward and gathers her into his arms.

“Anthony, what are you doing?” Kate exclaims.

“Helping my pregnant wife,” he says, breathing a little hard as he walks forward. “Good thing we parked close.”

Penelope and Colin watch as Anthony carries her until they reach their car on the road. The tension from before fades as they both start laughing.

“So, we should get home,” Penelope says and then winces. “I mean, go back to the place that is my home and the place you’re staying at causally.”

“Of course,” Colin nods and holds out his arms. “Do you want me to carry you into the night like Anthony?”

“No, I rather like walking,” Penelope says. “But how about we walk arm in arm like we’re in the regency era where corsets are all the rage and men wear those weirdly high collars?”

Colin turns up the collar of his coat jacket and sticks out his arm. Penelope takes it with a smile, and he walks her back to her car.

She finds herself stealing glances at him as she drives. He meets her gaze each time, giving her a smile that makes her heart leap in her chest.

🐝 🐝 🐝

After a little over a week has passed, she’s gotten used to Colin’s presence in the flat. Although, her breath hitches as their hands brush as they both reach something for the cupboard, and her heart pounds like a hammer when they sit closely on the couch watching TV, whispering commentary into her ear even though no one else is around.

Today she plans to meet Colin during her lunch break at a restaurant. She’s already finished with her article twenty minutes before her break, so Penelope pulls up her blog, beginning to write a new entry.

After she’s done and queues the post to be published, her fingers halt on her keyboard as she sees Colin’s tall frame in the corner of the office. 

Penelope minimizes the screen and waves Colin over to her desk when he spots her. 

“Nice calendar,” Colin says with a smirk when he reaches her desk. 

She looks up to her cubicle at the calendar hanging on the wall. Some of her friends at the office put it together for her birthday, each month a different celebrity she likes. 

“It keeps me motivated,” Penelope says. “One look in Dave Patel’s eyes, and I feel like I could take on the world.”

“They are quite entrancing,” Colin agrees, looking closely at the December picture before looking back at her. “You ready for lunch?”

“Yeah, let me just log off my computer first.” 

“You can’t keep it logged in?”

“I sometimes do, but when I leave for longer periods of time, it’s best to log out for security reasons.”

“That’s smart. Why risk letting anyone seeing your work? It could mess with perfection.”

“You’re just trying to sweeten me up, so I’ll agree to go to that pizza place for lunch instead of the Thai restaurant like we discussed.”

“The pizza place has a toy crane machine! I can win one. I know it.”

“You spent fifty bucks the other day trying to win a stuffed lizard.”

“That stuff lizard will be mine, mark my words.” 

She’s about to make a retort when she sees his body tense up. 

“What is it?” she asks. 

He looks over her shoulder with a frown. “Cressida works here?”

“Yeah,” Penelope groans, fully understanding the wave of despair overcoming him as Cressida spots Colin across the way. “She does a lot of the red-carpet interviews for the site.” 

“I thought she wanted to be an actress?”

“I think she thought this would be a way into the industry. You know, batting her eyelashes at every Hollywood heartthrob until she gets put into a movie.”

“Wasn’t she in that one movie where she got killed by a shark in the first ten minutes?”

“Yes, I once heard her on the phone arguing that it wasn’t listed on her IMDB page.” 

“She has an IMDB page?” he asks in disbelief. 

“No, which she also was arguing about on the phone,” Penelope whispers and puts on a clenched smile as Cressida approaches her desk. 

“Penelope!”

“Cressida, hello.”

“You’re still here?” she asks, with a dazzling but condescending grin. “I thought you’d be with your family. I saw that your mother is at the ski lodge in Aspin.”

“I decided to skip out on the trip. I’m not really a good skier or ice skater.”

“How surprising that you wouldn’t be into something that requires grace and elegance,” Cressida chuckles. 

Colin steps forward. “I think it takes more grace to put up with me.”

Cressida pretends to be surprised she didn’t see Colin, even though he was most definitely the only reason she came up to Penelope’s desk in the first place. 

“Colin, what a lovely surprise!” she says giddily. “What are you doing here?”

“Penelope and I are going out to lunch.”

“Really?” she says, tilting her head in genuine confusion at the news. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Some of us like to eat food instead of consuming the hopes and dreams of people like a dementor.” 

Cressida’s smile instantly drops, and Penelope covers her mouth to stifle her laugh. 

Colin’s smile doesn’t waver, reaching for Penelope’s arm. 

“If you’ll excuse us,” Colin says, smiling as he reaches to take Penelope’s arm. 

After they walk a few feet away and into the elevator, they both burst out laughing. 

“I can’t believe you said that,” Penelope says through wheezed breaths. 

“You know that remark isn’t far off. She may not wear a black cloak, but the resemblance between her and a dementor is uncanny.”

“True. She’s like a Barbie-fied dementor.” 

“Instead of the kiss of death, she hits people with her handbags filled with dread,” he adds as they step out onto the street. She hears his phone buzz, and he reaches into his pocket and smiles at the screen. “Oh, looks like a new article is out on The Whistle.”

“I don’t think you should read that—.”

“Why?” he asks and then gives such a handsomely roguish look that it should be illegal. “Does she talk about me in it?”

“Way to be presumptuous,” Penelope scoffs but feels herself begin to sweat. 

“It’s not presumptuous. She’s written about me before.”

“Maybe because there’s a lack of anything to report this week.”

“Are you saying talking about my return home is filler content for her blog?”

“It is quite a skimmable read,” Penelope says, enjoying how offended he looks at the prospect. 

“How dare you,” he gasps sarcastically. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Oh really, how?”

He mutters something about waiting for the right moment to catch her by surprise. Penelope laughs at that, and they have a pleasant lunch at the Thai place. It’s not until thirty minutes later that his payback strikes when they’re eating ice cream on a bench near the park.

He pushes the cone into her face. “That’s for calling me filler content!”

She gasps. “You’ve gone too far.”

“Really? Because I think I can go further.”

The ice cream that already has a dent from Penelope’s nose makes contact with her cheek. 

When Colin pulls it back, she gives him a challenging look. “You forget that I, too, have ice cream in my hand.”

“But you forget that I excelled at the tag,” he says and then jolts up from the bench they had been sitting on. “You could never catch me when we were kids.”

“True, but you forget that when we played dodgeball, I had great aim.” 

The ice cream flies out of her hands, hitting him in the back. 

He dramatically falls to the ground as if he’d been shot. They get strange glances from onlookers, but Penelope can’t seem to care. 

As Penelope watches him grinning at her on the ground, however, her smile fades from her own face. 

She feels that familiar fluttering in her chest and knows she was fooling herself to believe that Colin moving into her place for the month would dissuade her feelings for him. Instead, it had fanned the flames that have always burned within her. 

But she knows deep down that she’s the only one between them who feels the flame, despite everything from these past two weeks starting to make her think otherwise. 

When Colin inevitably leaves at the end of the month, it will burn on, leaving her skin scorched without a blemish on him.

🐝 🐝 🐝

The next week she tries not to be in a room with him alone as much as possible. This is difficult, as they're the only two people in the flat.

Colin notices her sudden distant behavior, starting to seek Penelope out when she's home from work or catching her on her way out to somewhere that she doesn't need to be. 

She hates avoiding him. It feels so childish. But it's for the good of both of them. She just needs to power through these last two weeks, and then he'll be gone, and he can leave on his next trip as if this month hadn't ever happened. 

But while Penelope’s heating some dinner in the microwave, he catches her off guard, asking her if she wanted to watch something while they eat. 

She can’t think of a good excuse, so she agrees. But, it shouldn't be that hard to act as if everything is normal. After all, they were friends. They could watch a movie without her getting butterflies in her stomach and remembering that he will leave again soon. 

“So, what’ll it be?” Colin asks. “A crime documentary, a comedy, or should we start bingeing a new show?”

“It’s too late for a crime show, and I can’t handle the commitment of an entire show, so let’s do a comedy.”

Colin flicks through Netflix for a while before they decide on _Set it Up_.

“Ok, here we go,” Colin says, clicking on the film. It loads for a few seconds, but the screen suddenly goes dark. “Or not.”

“That’s weird,” Penelope mutters.

Suddenly, the entire room goes dark as well, all the lights going out.

“That’s even weirder,” Colin says through the dark.

“Let me call my super,” Penelope says, standing up and getting out her phone. Once she’s done on the phone, she joins him back on the couch. “He says the powers out in the whole building. It’s going to take a while. Good thing I turned all my articles for work in already. My laptop’s out of battery.”

“It’s a good thing I already finished my first travel blog too.”

“I didn’t know that,” Penelope says, sitting up in excitement. “Have you posted it?”

“Nope, but it’s all right here,” he says, pulling up the draft of it on his phone. After a moment, he holds it out to her. “I wanted you to look at it before I published it.”

Penelope smiles, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he thinks her advice is worth something. She takes his phone, reading the post about the time he spent in Valencia. She writes in annotations on the side of the document as she does, making small suggestions.

“You’re writing is amazing. I only put a few notes on the sections that needed more detail and one or two grammar errors, but this is wonderful,” she says, handing over his phone. “Your blog is going to be a hit, I know it.”

“Don’t be so sure. Who wants to read about travel when you could just do it yourself?”

“Not everybody can, so they can read your vivid descriptions of it, and it’ll be like they’ve been there. Besides, every place is somewhat different for every person. The way you see things is unique, and people will respond to that.”

“Thanks,” he smiles.

She feels that fluttering again, breaking the moment by getting up.

“We should light some candles.”

“Excellent idea,” Colin says, joining her as she searches through the drawers in the kitchen. “You got any flashlights?”

Penelope nods, gesturing to the drawer on the left. Once she gets a few candles out of her room, she lights them and places them around the flat. Colin puts new batteries in the flashlight he found, and they re-group in the living room.

“I used to love power outages,” Colin tells her. “My family would gather around in the dark and play board games by using our flashlights, or we’d just stay up and talk.”

“I don’t have cards, but I have Battleship.”

They end up playing it in the middle of the floor. Halfway through the game, Colin lets out a groan.

“Where the heck are your ships? I’ve only hit you twice!”

“I have a strategy I’ve perfected over the years. I never lose at this game.”

Through the light coming from a nearby candle, she sees the smirk on his face. “I knew there was a competitive streak somewhere inside you.”

“E 5,” she calls out.

“Hit.”

“Come on, Colin, say the thing.”

There’s a few seconds of silence before he mumbles lowly, “You sunk my battleship.”

“Yes!” she cheers, throwing her hands up in the air in victory.

“Don’t get cocky. I can still catch up,” he says, regarding his battleship board with serious concentration. “B 4.”

“Hit.”

“Really?”

“No,” she laughs.

“Pen, that was so low,” he scolds.

“Sorry, do you want me to give you a clue?”

“No, I either win fairly or lose and keep my pride.”

After they play a few more turns, Colin’s phone buzzes in his pocket. She sees the flash on the name on the screen before he answers it, and he takes the call in the other room.

When she returns, she waits a full five minutes before bringing it up.

“So, what did Marina have to say?” she asks.

Colin fiddles with one of his sunken ships. “Oh, you saw that?”

“Yeah. Are you guys—.”

“No, of course not,” he interrupts quickly. “She just had her baby and was wondering if Kate wanted any of her old pregnancy stuff.”

“That’s nice of her,” Penelope says, chewing on her lip. “It’s not that I didn’t like her, but I didn’t like what she did to you.”

“I wasn’t too thrilled about it either, but I understand,” Colin says. “People are desperate when they’re scared.”

Penelope nods, knowing this to be true.

“So, do you want to have a family?” she asks.

“Someday,” he admits, his sullen expression from before starting to dissipate. “Part of me wants to have one child and spoil it rotten because I had to fight with seven siblings for attention. But I think I would want a big family. Not as big as mine, but a decent size. It’s nice to have a group of people looking out for you. What about you?”

“I do want a family, someday. But I wouldn’t name my kids alphabetically,” she says pointedly.

“Daphne’s carrying on the tradition. So, I won’t have to subject my kids to that.”

“Really, what would you name them?”

“I like Thomas.”

“After Tom Hanks?”

“Exactly,” he beams. “And I like Jane too. It’s a nice simple name.”

“Also, because you had a childhood crush on Jane from _Tarzan_.”

“There’s also that,” he admits, blushing. “What about you?”

“I like Agatha.”

“Because if Agatha Christie?”

“You know me too well,” Penelope says, her eyes drifting down to her boats on her board without any hits in them. “Also, George.”

“Why, you want him to be a king?”

Penelope shakes her head. “No. It was my father’s middle name.”

She expects the surprise that crosses his face. “I thought you weren’t close with your father.”

“I wasn’t, but I still loved him. Using his middle name is a way to accept he’s gone and that it’s ok to remember the good things about him instead of the bad all the time.”

“George,” he says, listening to the way it sounds coming out of his mouth. “I like it.”

“So, are you planning on taking your kids around the world with you?” she asks. “You’re usually not in the same place anymore for more than a week or two.”

“That’s usually true, but I’m actually thinking of cutting back on my travel time.”

Penelope’s brows furrow. “But you’re starting your own travel blog.”

“I am. But working for myself, I’ll get to choose my own hours and travel locations. I’ll probably go somewhere foreign once a month and talk about places within a driving distance the rest of the time. That way, I can have an actual home to get comfortable at and one day raise a family in.”

“Where will this home be?”

“I can’t picture living anywhere full time except for here.”

She bites her lip, trying to dampen the hope she feels rising in her. “So, after this month is up, you might stay in London?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to overstay my welcome in your flat,” Colin assures.

“I’m not worried about that,” she says. “It’s just, you being home again is going to be great. Just like old times.”

His shoulders droop a little, “Well, maybe not just like old times.”

She quirks her head, squinting at him through the dark. “What’s wrong with old times?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, but his lips are pursed, looking a bit anxious as he says his next words. “But certain things have changed.”

“Like?”

He looks back up at her, the candle flickering and illuminating his face. His expression is soft, and she feels like she melts into a puddle on the floor.

“Like...” he starts to say, his voice shaking a little. But after a moment, he sighs. “Like my mom’s garden. It’s going to be the size of the park one of these days.”

Penelope thinks that’s not what he was about to say but doesn’t call him out on it. Instead, she closes her Battleship board.

“I have work in the morning,” she tells him. “I should probably turn in.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “I have a meeting with some sponsors for my blog.”

They both stand up and start blowing out all of the candles. When they walk down the hall, reaching both of their rooms across from each other, she hears him fiddling with his doorknob.

“Uh oh.” 

She turns, but it’s too dark to see him. “What?”

“The doors locked.”

“Why did you lock your bedroom door when we both were in the living room?”

“I don’t know, out of habit, I guess,” he says, and she hears him rustling. “Shit, it’s not in my pocket either.”

“It could have gotten lost while we were rooting through the closet or walking around setting up candles.”

They turn on their flashlights again and try to find the key that must’ve fallen somewhere in the room. But after twenty minutes of turning over couch cushions and crawling on the floor, they come up with nothing.

“Pen, I’ll keep looking. You just go to bed,” Colin says with a yawn. “I’ll crash on the couch and look for the key in the morning.”

“You don’t want to go to your meeting with potential sponsors with a crick in your neck. You’ll look too desperate for their money.”

“It’ll be fine,” he waves her off, sitting on the couch.

“Colin, your legs don’t even fit on the couch,” she sighs, pulling him up. “Just sleep with me.”

There’s an awkward silence, and she’s sure that Colin can hear her blushing through the dark.

“I mean—you can sleep in my bed...beside me,” she stutters.

“Are you sure?”

“We’re adults. We don’t have to put up a barricade of pillows between us anything. We’ll just sleep.”

“Right, there’s nothing weird of sleeping with you—next to you, I mean.”

“Great. Then, let me go change, and then you can come in.”

She goes into her room, shutting the door, and quickly changes into her pajamas. Luckily due to the darkness, she’s not too paranoid about what to wear. She just puts on a shirt and pajama pants.

When she lets Colin in, she lays down on the left side of the bed while he takes a right. He pauses for a few seconds before putting the covers over himself.

There’s no sound of a clock echoing in the room, but she feels time pass by achingly slow, the room tense. Penelope shifts onto her side, facing Colin, and sees that he’s lying ridged on his back.

“You don’t seem comfortable,” she notes.

“No, I am.” Colin must sense her disbelieving look as he relents, “Ok, I’m not. It’s just—I usually don’t sleep with a shirt on.”

“Then take it off.”

He doesn’t move. In fact, he lays even more still on the bed.

She rolls her eyes. “Colin, we’ve gone swimming together before. I’ve seen you without a shirt on. I’m not going to swoon or anything.”

“Alright, alright, I’m taking it off.”

Colin pulls the shirt off his head and lays on his side, facing Penelope. While the room’s dark, she can see the outline of his body, and her breath catches in her throat.

“You sure you don’t feel a little faint?” he asks, sounding self-conscious even though he has no reason to be.

“Do you need me to say I do to preserve your ego?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, Colin, I feel lightheaded by looking at the curvatures of your muscles and your rock-hard abs,” she drawls sarcastically.

“Thanks.”

She puts an arm under her pillow, closing her eyes. Penelope listens to the sound of Colin’s breathing, lulling her nerves at being so near him.

“Pen?” he whispers.

“Yes?”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Uh,” Penelope says, opening her eyes. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Pen, the other day, when I went over to ask if you wanted any coffee, you ran out of the room.”

“That didn’t have to do with you. I was running from a bee that got into the flat!”

“It’s the middle of the winter,” he says dryly.

“Fine, I might have been avoiding you,” she admits. “But just a little.”

“Why?”

Penelope’s eyes are starting to focus in the dark, allowing her to make out Colin’s face. There’s hurt in his eyes, and she feels a pang of guilt being the one to put it there.

“Because…I was afraid.”

“Of what? Of me?”

“No, not of you,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Of how much I like having you around.”

He falls quiet for a moment. She thinks he fell asleep until she feels his hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I really like being around,” he says.

“Because it’s free room and board?” she jokes.

Colin edges closer to her, so their faces are only a few inches apart.

“No, because I really like you,” he says. “I feel like I’m more myself with you than I am with anyone else.”

This time when she feels the fluttering, she doesn’t try to stamp the feelings down. Penelope lets herself feel the immense love she has for this guy she’s known ever since she learned how to tie her shoes.

“I feel the same,” she says.

Colin’s hand brushes against hers. “If I get a place, after the months over, will you come over and hang out?”

“Will you have power? Because I might need to use your flat for the electricity and warm water if my power doesn’t come back on.”

Colin smirks. “I think having power will be on my must list while looking for places.”

“Then yes, I will come over,” she agrees. “We can celebrate your new place by seeing how far we can slide across the floor in our socks.” 

“Then we can watch a movie. I’ll put up surround sound that’ll make it impossible for you to go back to watching TV out of your tiny speakers.”

“I’ll have to help you get groceries. Otherwise, you’ll have a bunch of stale chips because you never put the chip clips on the bag.”

“After we go out and get groceries, we can stop in the park and eat some ice cream, but not throw it on each other this time.”

“I make no promises,” Penelope says. “You could be really annoying that day.”

“I can be annoying, but you love me anyway,” Colin says, his voice beginning to sound heavier, near sleep.

“Colin?”

“Yeah?”

She reaches over to the other hand, not under his pillow, that sits between them.

“I want you to stay,” Penelope murmurs.

She closes her eyes again, feeling exhaustion tugging her under. Colin’s fingers intertwining with hers.

“I’m not going anywhere, Pen.”

“But you always do,” she yawns, nestling her head onto her pillow. But she’s not sure. It might be his chest. “Eventually.”

As she begins to drift off, she hears Colin’s voice, soft but clear.

“I don’t want to be anywhere but here.”

🐝 🐝 🐝

When Penelope wakes up the next morning, she leans into the warmth she feels against her body. It takes her a few moments to realize that warmth isn’t a pillow or a blanket but is Colin.

She freezes. Suddenly, she feels much more awake than before. 

Colin remains asleep, his arms curling further around her, pulling her closer. 

It would be easy to stay in his arms, pretending she hadn’t even woken up. But she hears the alarm on her phone go off and turns, seeing that her clock is blinking the time. 

The powers back on.

She tries not to wake Colin, tip-toeing around the room and getting dressed for work. But as she puts her hair up, she hears Colin shifting from the bed behind her. 

“Pen?”

She turns to him, flicking the lights on. “The powers back.”

“I can see that,” he says, squinting through the light in the room.

“I have to go to work. Good luck with your meeting later today.”

He nods, mumbling something as he falls backward onto the bed and back to sleep. Penelope laughs, the image of him drooling on her pillow, making her smile all the way to work.

The smile, however, eventually fades. Mostly due to Cressida cornering her after a meeting. 

“So, you seem to be spending a lot of time with the Bridgerton’s lately.”

“Uh, I guess so,” she shrugs, trying to sidestep her.

“Particularly Colin,” Cressida says, blocking the door. “It seems like I keep seeing you around with him.”

“Well, he’s my friend.”

“Well, that’s how he’s always seen you, but it’s not quite how you see him,” she says, arching her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “Right?” 

When they were in secondary school, Penelope would have cowered to her taunts. But she’s grown since then, become confident in who she is. So, Penelope doesn’t even blink, standing firmly in front of her. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do than insult me as a way to boost your self-esteem, which is reaching such heights?” she asks, causing Cressida to scowl. “I’m surprised you’re not floating off the ground with all the air that’s in your head.”

Penelope walks around her, this time, able to make it through the door. But as she starts to walk back to her desk, Cressida stops her, grabbing onto her elbow. 

“You read The Whistle lately?” Cressida asks, smiling a little too sweet to be genuine.

“I read it every now and again.”

“Then you probably read her post about Colin, that he’s breaking out on his own to start a travel blog.”

“I did read that, and he told me himself.” 

“How would Whistledown know such a thing? I mean, it’s not like his blog is up and running, or he’s shouting out that he quit his job from the rooftops.”

Penelope shrugs. “I don’t know how she knew that. You’d have to ask her.”

“It’s a shame Lady Whistledown keeps her identity a secret,” Cressida continues. “If people knew who she was, she could get anything she wants from people who would do anything for a good word in her blog. She’s squandering the power she has.”

“Maybe she’s not in it for the power.”

Cressida leers over her. “Or maybe, she hides behind a pen name because she’s a coward.”

Penelope’s back goes ridged as Cressida regards her with a knowing gaze as if she can see through her skin. 

Cressida seems satisfied by Penelope’s nervousness and smiles as she walks away. 

Penelope sits down at her desk, starting to panic. There’s no way Cressida knows about her being Whistledown. Still, that conversation was extremely pointed, not making any sense unless her words were intended to insinuate that she knew Penelope’s secret. 

She tries to ignore the worry beginning to settle on her shoulders, prepping for her next interview in an hour. 

Later, she gets a text from Colin, inviting her to the get-together his mother’s hosting as all of his siblings are back home now. 

Penelope tells him that she’ll be there, hoping that it’ll help get her mind off her conversation with Cressida. 

🐝 🐝 🐝

They end up arriving at the house at the same time as Anthony and Kate. As they walk up the steps, Anthony has his hand looped around Kate, guiding her up.

“Anthony, I can make it up the steps by myself,” Kate says. 

“I’m not so sure. You had a hard time getting out of your chair this morning.”

“It’s high off the ground!”

“It’s barely two inches from the floor!”

“Fine, you may guide me up the stairs,” Kate says begrudgingly. “But I will hear nothing about not being able to eat sugar cookies tonight because it’s bad for the baby.”

Anthony looks like he wants to object to this but thinks better of it. “Fine, it’s a deal.”

“Really?” Kate asks, raising her brows. “You won’t say a word, no matter how many cookies I eat?” 

He holds up one of his hands as if he’s about to take a pledge. “I swear.”

Kate put a hand on her hip. “You’re crossing your fingers behind your back, aren’t you?”

He sighs, revealing the hand behind his back. “You know me so well.”

Kate smiles, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “That I do.”

“Even though you know me, you still love me.” 

“It’s a curse,” she sighs sarcastically, but the way her eyes are gleaming lovingly at him gives her away. “But it’s not a bad one, I think.”

Colin steps around them. “I can’t believe you originally wanted to date Edwina,” he says, ringing the doorbell. “You two are a match made in heaven.”

“It didn’t feel that way when she kept stomping on my foot the first night we met.”

“I’m a bad dancer. It was an accident,” she defends. Anthony narrows his eyes, and she groans in defeat. “Well, most of them were accidents. I thought you were a rake who wanted to ruin my sister!”

He steps towards Kate, cupping her cheek. “But instead, I ruined you.”

“And I ruined you because you never said you’d fall in love, but here we are.” 

“Yes, here we are,” he agrees, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I can’t be sorry you bested me in that aspect.”

Penelope chuckles. “Your guys’ love is so weird. You go from arguing to making googly eyes at each other within seconds.”

“At least we don’t have permanent puppy eyes like Daphne and Simon,” Anthony mutters. 

“Hey, We’re adorable!” Daphne shouts, coming up the stairs alongside Simon and their two kids. 

“No, you’re nauseating,” Eloise says, causing them to all look towards the door that she just opened. “You’re all also late.”

They all walk inside the house. However, Penelope sees Daphne pause in front of Eloise before she enters.

“One day, you will fall in love, Eloise. And then, you will grow quiet on a subject.”

“I think she can’t be quiet on any subject,” Benedict interjects, emerging from the kitchen and into the foyer.

Penelope watches as all the Bridgerton’s are at last reunited. Their voices grow loud as they greet one another and hug. Eventually, Kate’s dog storms into the room, practically jumping on to Daphne.

“I’m sorry,” Violet says, running into the room, tearing the dog off Daphne, who looks a bit winded. “He’s been pent up the entire day in the kitchen. He’s excited to see people.”

“Thanks for watching him,” Kate says, taking Newton from Violet. “He couldn’t be at the house today. We were baby proofing it.”

“Maybe they should Newton proof it,” Colin whispers to Penelope, causing her to laugh. 

“Well, now that everyone’s here, let’s head into the living room. The camera is all set up for the holiday photo, so go put on your sweaters.” 

As they head to the living room, Colin mutters to Penelope, “Are you sure you don’t want to back out of this?”

“And miss this reunion of all the Bridgerton’s? No way.”

“No, no, no!” they hear Anthony shout from the other room.

Penelope and Colin hurry into the living room, only to see Anthony and Eloise bickering near the music speaker.

“What’s wrong with my music?” Eloise asks.

“We’re trying only to let the baby listen to classical music.”

Kate, who’s already eating a cookie, adds, “By we, he actually only means him.”

“Anthony, that study has been disproved,” Eloise says, rolling her eyes. “Classical music doesn’t make babies smarter.”

He unplugs her phone from the speaker. “I’m not taking any chances and letting you corrupt him with your horrible music taste.”

“Maybe Anthony’s right,” Simon proclaims beside Anthony. “Kate’s brilliant, but with half your genes, that baby’s going to need all the help it can get in the intelligence department.”

There’s a beat of silence before Simon and Anthony start wrestling one another. 

“Boys, stop!” Violet shouts. “This is a family affair.”

“It wouldn’t be a Bridgerton family affair without a display of chauvinism by the boys,” Eloise says. 

“Now, we’ll have a compromise. How about holiday music?” Violet suggests. “It’s festive, and it’s sure to not corrupt my soon-to-be grandson.”

“Obviously, you’ve never heard grandma got run over by a reindeer,” Penelope says.

Apparently, her voice was louder than she meant it to be, as everyone starts laughing. 

“Exactly, thank you, Penelope!” Anthony says with a smile. “No other music genre is safe.”

Soon after Eloise and Anthony settle on the music, they all put on their sweaters and go towards the fireplace to take a photo. 

Colin looks back at Penelope on the couch. “Pen, are you coming?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have to be in the picture.”

She laughs a little, but when she sees he’s not joking, she frowns in confusion. 

“But I’m not a Bridgerton.”

“You’ve been around this family for years,” Benedict says with a smile. “You might as well be one.”

She looks around the room and sees that everyone looks just as unfazed by this turn of events. 

Violet steps towards her. “It would be lovely to have you in the picture, Penelope.”

“But I don’t have a sweater.”

“Then count yourself lucky,” Eloise says and pulls her up from the couch. “Take the picture with us, please.”

Penelope nods, a shaky smile on her face as they go into the other room to take the picture. She ends up next to Eloise due to their similar height. But Colin is positioned right behind her.

As the camera begins to flash, her doubts or anxieties start to go away. Somehow, she feels at home in this group of people. She feels even more at ease as Colin rests his hands on her hips and begins smiling at her instead of the camera.

🐝 🐝 🐝

A few days later, Penelope smirks at all the hits her latest blog entry is getting. As she waits for Colin to get ready for the party, she rereads it. 

_Dear readers,_

_It looks like anyone who's anyone is attending the Danbury holiday party. While she throws one every year, this one is certain to put every previous Christmas bash to shame._

_The singles of London society, or more accurately, their mothers, will be glad to hear that the entire rugby team with star player Simon Basset will be in attendance. Due to the occasion being formal, I'm afraid their muscles will be buried under their suits._

_According to my sources, Danbury has hired an entire symphony as well. So be prepared to put to use those waltzing lessons forced upon you when you were twelve and had two left feet._

_This author has a keen sense for anticipating scandal, so I warn you to stay on your toes tonight. Undoubtedly, there will be some drama._

_Will it come from Portia Featherington? She's back from the ski lodge in Aspin with another new beau, who appears oddly similar to Mrs. Cowper's ex from last spring._

_Maybe it will it come from Prime Minister Charlotte, whose running for another term this year but has faced controversy due to funds for the city mysteriously going missing._

_Or, will Araminta Gunningworth make some dramatic display, as she's catering the event (do not try her crab cakes, this writer learned her lesson when she ate them at Danbury's Valentine’s Day party last year)?_

_Whatever does happen tonight, rest assured, dear readers, that I will give you a full report._

_Yours truly,_

_Lady Whistledown_

She hears Colin come out of his room and turns off her computer. 

It takes everything in her power not to gawk at him when he enters the room. He's wearing a blue tuxedo that's slim-fitted. Although she typically goes to these parties and makes fun of all the men who look like James Bond wannabes with Eloise, he wears the look well. 

Colin does a little spin, his eyebrows raised in question.

“So, do I look like a waiter that your mother would hit on during dinner and make everyone super uncomfortable?”

“No, you don’t,” Penelope cringes, thinking back to a horrendous dinner Colin went to with her family to a fancy restaurant while he was dating Marina. “Is that what you’re going for?”

“No, I wanted to make sure it wasn’t too close to that territory, so your mother doesn’t spill a drink on me and use it as an excuse to offer a date with Prudence or Philippa as a concession.”

“I think you’re safe,” Penelope laughs. She steps forward. “Although, your bow tie could use some improvement.”

She begins to fix the tie. Up this close to him, she can smell the scent of Colin’s cologne and his coconut shampoo that she’s seen in the shower. 

When she’s finished, she sees that Colin’s staring down at her with an indescribable gaze. 

Penelope looks down at her dress, wondering if it started to wrinkle from sitting down. But it looks fine. It’s not a horrid bright yellow dress like her mother used to make her wear either.

Instead, It’s a [midnight blue ball gown](https://www.sparklygowns.com/products/jessica-v-neck-tulle-a-line-navy-andrea-and-leo-couture-a0762-evening-gown?variant=31819743395973). One that her mother would detest, as it doesn’t hide from her curves. But rather, embraces them. It has a V-neck and an a-tulle ballerina back, with shimmering black beading around the bodice. There’s also a slit down the side, which shows off her legs a bit. 

She would have never been comfortable in a dress like this before. But she’s gained more confidence in herself since she was a teenager. When she looked in the mirror, she didn’t cower or think about how much better everyone else in the room would look. 

Penelope knew she wasn’t like Cressida or Daphne, a dazzling type of beauty that magazines loved to photograph. But she knew she was indeed beautiful. 

But still, Colin’s stare made her squirm a little.

“What is it?” she asks. 

“You look amazing,” Colin says, his blue eyes glowing at her. “You’re ethereal.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, her cheeks heating. “You look amazing too. Not at all like a waiter.”

Colin laughs, and the sound is melodious. 

He offers her his arm, and she feels a bit silly taking it as if they’re in Jane Austen times going to a ball, but she takes it anyway. 

After all, who doesn’t want to feel like they’re a Jane Austen heroine now and again? 

She quickly loses Colin in the crowd when they arrive at Ms. Danbury’s house. Many in attendance are eager to talk to him, hoping to woo him and get a free vacation to Bali out of it or something. He keeps shooting her desperate glances as he tries to leave each conversation politely, and she can’t help but laugh. 

Penelope spends some much-needed time with Eloise. She’s been extremely busy grading her student’s finals, so the two catch up at their favorite spot at these parties, near the punch bowl. 

They watch everyone get tipsy and take a special interest in Benedict, who stays close to the side of a woman neither of them knows, who’s wearing a gorgeous silver gown. However, Penelope thinks her face looks similar to a waitress who served her earlier that evening. 

After about an hour, she doesn’t see Colin anywhere and wonders where he’d gotten to. When Eloise excuses herself to take a call from one of her fellow professors named Phillip, Penelope begins to walk around the house. 

As she reaches the edge of the ballroom, she’s stopped by Daphne. 

“Penelope, you look so beautiful,” she says sweetly. “The color of your dress matches Colin’s tux. Was that intentional?”

Penelope flushes. She hadn’t even noticed they matched. “No, it was a pure coincidence.”

“I believe there are no coincidences, that every instance, no matter how random, is a part of fate.” She then leans towards her, a mischievous glint in her eye. “For example, I think it’s fate that Colin booked a room at that scam hotel.” 

“Why would fate want him to lose a bunch of money?”

“Because it led him to stay at your place,” Daphne answers simply. “One decision about a hotel is guiding you both towards finally having what you were destined to have.” 

“Which is?” 

Daphne smiles. “If the way Colin has been looking at you across the room all night is any indicator, you will soon find out.” 

With that, Daphne walks away, rejoining Simon, who is entertaining their children by doing the napkin face trick he stole from the movie _The Holiday_. 

Penelope watches the scene, feeling a strong sense of yearning. She wants to Daphne has. A person she loves, who she knows without hesitation, loves her back. 

She suddenly feels a little lightheaded. Penelope heads into the hall that leads out to Ms. Danbury’s backyard. It has a garden almost as stunning as Mrs. Bridgerton’s. 

But as she’s about to turn the corner into the hall, she hears someone begin to speak. 

“You came with her?” 

Penelope recognizes the slimy voice of Nigel Berbrooke. She has no desire to deal with him, so she hides against the wall.

“That’s none of your business.” 

Penelope freezes when she hears Colin’s voice. He must’ve gotten the same idea to escape the party by going outside. But, he must’ve run into Nigel, who trapped him in the hall.” 

“Oh mate, relax. My mother forced me to bring someone too,” Nigel commiserates. “She’s the girl in the corner, who looks a bit like a chipmunk. Your date is the chubby one in blue, right?” 

Penelope grimaces. She doesn’t care what Nigel thinks, but it doesn’t mean snide remarks like that don’t still hurt. 

“Ah, you have no comment,” Nigel says after a few beats of tense silence. “I get it, man. I wouldn’t want people to know my date was a pig either.”

Penelope doesn’t see the punch, but she definitely hears it. There’s an unpleasant crunching sound, and a thudding nose follows it. 

She steps away from the wall, running into the hall.

Colin’s eyebrows are pinched into a hard line, and the vein in his neck is pronounced. Colin does not get angry often, so Penelope barely recognizes the man glowering at Nigel, lying on the ground at his feet. 

“What the hell, man?” Nigel wines, clutching his nose. 

“Never talk about her like that,” Colin says icily. 

Nigel scoffs. But when he looks at Colin’s furious expression through the gaps of his fingers, he nods solemnly. 

He gets up, muttering something about how Bridgerton’s are prone to violent forms of aggression, before walking down the hall towards the bathroom. Penelope assumes he’s probably going in there to stick toilet paper in his nose. 

“I can stand up for myself,” Penelope hisses as she approaches Colin. “There was no need to punch him.”

Colin whips his head towards her, suddenly noticing her presence. His scowl falls, but there’s still a fire in his eyes. 

“Oh, there definitely was a need,” Colin says lowly. “You didn’t hear what he said.”

“Oh, I heard what he said, but I’ve heard much worse.”

Colin stills, the fire dwindling in his eyes, turning softer in response to her words. Penelope straightens her shoulders, but she feels her mouth tremble a little, forcing herself to bite down on her lower lip. 

“You should have never heard anything like that before,” Colin says, his voice tense. “Men are idiots, and I’m tempted to ask who those idiots are so I can give them the same treatment that bloke just got.”

“Of you did that, a quarter of London would have crooked noses, and the dating app world would see a big dip in usage.” 

“Then I’d be doing all the woman of London a service, cutting out the guys who aren’t worth their time.”

That makes her smile, which eases the stiffness from both their shoulders. 

They stare at each other for a moment. Penelope knows she should look away, but she can’t help it. When Colin smiles, it transforms his entire face. 

It’s like looking up at a star. The light emanating from it is bright with no sign of fading. You had a feeling you could stay there, looking up at it forever. 

Penelope breaks the gaze, averting her head down. She knows she wasn’t meant to look into them forever. Like a star, Colin was something that couldn’t be tied down and grounded to the earth. He was too restless, his spot changing in the sky as the earth moved. 

Colin’s leaving in a week. Even though the time they spent together was longer than ever before and the distance between them seemed to be getting smaller, nothing was actually different. 

Sure, he’s spoken to her about staying home for longer periods of time now that he’s self-employed, but he always leaves, and she always stays. 

Penelope has spent so much time waiting to seize onto a star she can never reach. 

One that’s also not reaching for her back. 

“You should go back into the party,” Penelope says suddenly. “Your mother will have your head if you don’t say hello to all of her friends.”

“You mean her friend’s daughters,” he grumbles.

“You always seem to enjoy that portion of the evening at events like this before.”

“Come on, Penelope. You know how boring they are to talk to. Why do you think I always sneak off and find you?”

“As an excuse, to escape your mother’s meddling.” 

“Well, that’s a plus, but that’s not the main reason.”

She folds her arms across her chest. “What is the main reason?”

Colin steps forward, his lips curving upwards and putting a gentle hand on her cheek. 

“Everyone in the room dulls in comparison to you.” 

Penelope inhales sharply at his touch as if he’d burned her, taking a step back. “Stop.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t pity me,” she says thinly. 

He frowns deeply, “I’m not.” 

Penelope shakes her head, walking away from him. Her heals echo as she walks down the hall, and she pulls the back door open and is greeted by the chill of the evening air. 

“Penelope!” 

She doesn’t turn at his shouting, walking into the garden, past a tall shrub of Pieris Japonica’s, and entering the dirt path. As she reaches a dead end, she feels a hand tugging on her elbow. 

“What’s wrong?” Colin asks, sounding a bit breathless from chasing her. 

Penelope’s quiet for a few seconds before becoming brave enough to turn to look at Colin. He’s still holding onto her elbow, and his eyebrows are drawn in concern.

“What is this about?” she asks eventually, her voice quiet. 

“What is what about?”

“This entire month,” she answers, feeling a thickness forming in her throat. “You’ve been staying at my flat when you have four other siblings with guest rooms, you keep planning things for the future for us to do, even though you’re not staying, and you keep looking at me like that!” 

“Like what?”

“Like—I don’t know, like...”

Like she’s something desirable. Like she’s a person who causes his heart to beat faster. Like she’s a star herself, one that Colin admires and gives him a sense of wonder. 

He’s been looking at her like he feels what she feels. 

“Maybe I am looking at you differently,” Colin admits after a few moments. “But I should have been looking at you like this the whole time.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” she asks, unable to hide the bitterness from her voice. 

He smiles tightly. “It’s like I said before. Men are idiots.”

Penelope feels her eyes begin to water. “Colin...”

“Pen, your letters are amazing, but they never seem to be enough. I came to stay with you because I missed you,” he states, the hand on her elbow moving up her arm, beginning to swirl circles onto her skin. “You’ve always been one of my closest friends. But being so near you and spending more time with you over these past few weeks... it’s like somethings shifted. It’s not that things between us have changed, but it’s like I can finally see a full spectrum of colors instead of a single shade.”

He inches towards her, his hand resting on her cheek. She leans into his hand, her eyes drifting closed on their own accord. She can feel his breath against her skin, causing her to shiver. 

“I see you,” he whispers. 

Colin bridges the distance, lowering his lips to meet hers. She freezes for a moment, unable to believe this is happening before she melts into the kiss.

Her arms go around his waist, and Colin’s now cupping both of her cheeks, tenderly kissing her similar to the way she’d always imagined he would. 

Except this isn’t like anything like her imaginations, which were fuzzy and hard to grasp onto. Instead, this is real and in full focus. 

She can feel the scratching of his slight stubble against her cheek and her heart pounding in her chest. His tongue searches for hers, and she feels like all of her senses are enhanced. Every minute touch sets her ablaze.

“God, Pen,” Colin murmurs. 

His lips leave hers, beginning to make their way down to her neck. She sighs, feeling this aching feeling in her gut. 

“Colin,” Penelope sighs, twining her fingers through his hair. “I—I need…”

“What do you need?” 

“You,” she answers, wrapping a hand around him as if he’s an anchor she needs to keep herself ashore. “I want you closer.”

Penelope feels Colin smile against her neck. A gasp escapes her as he guides her against the hedge wall, pulling her flush against him. 

When Colin’s mouth reaches hers, again, they kiss less tentatively than before. She nips at his bottom lip, and a wave of pleasure courses through her when she hears a moan escape from his throat. 

He pulls away a few moments later to catch his breath. She opens her eyes dazedly and feels a sense of awe at how completely shattered he looks and feels a sense of satisfaction that she was the one to cause it.

“It’s never been like that,” he says with a shaky breath. “You—you make me feel…”

“You make me feel the same,” Penelope finishes, resting her forehead onto his. 

The two look into each other’s eyes and laugh lightly. Colin kisses her again, and it’s achingly slow and perfect, but Penelope’s hit by a surge of panic as she remembers where they are. 

“Wait,” she says, pulling away from him, a hand on his chest.

“What is it?”

“We can’t do this here.” When Colin only tilts his head in response, she gathers her breath and continues, “Colin, I’ve wanted this for so long. I don’t want the moment to be ruined by one of our parents walking into the garden or by cutting ourselves on the thorn bush.”

“You’re probably right,” he says reluctantly. He holds out his hand with a slight smirk. “You want to get out of here?”

Penelope feels at a loss for words, only nodding in response. 

“Good, then let’s go home.”

Home. The word echoes, sounding right coming from his lips. 

As they walk out of the garden and into the house, they only make it to the foyer before Eloise stops them. 

“Penelope, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where have you been?”

“I was getting some air,” she replies quickly. 

She raises an eyebrow, looking between her and Colin. “And by I, you mean we?”

She flushes, but luckily, Colin steps forward. “It was cold, so I thought I’d go after Penelope and give her her jacket.”

“Oh really?” Eloise asks. As the two of them nod, a slow smile forms on her face. “Then where’s the jacket.”

Penelope freezes. “I—uh, must have left It outside.”

Eloise looks down at Colin’s hand, frowning. 

“Your fingers are bruised.”

He looks down at them. “Oh, I accidentally hit it against something earlier.”

“You mean Nigel’s face?” Eloise snorts.

“How did you know?”

“He was hogging the bathroom, and a whole line of people saw his face once he emerged,” she explains and then looks at Colin, impressed. “Well done.”

“Thanks,” Colin says, wringing his neck nervously. 

“What did you need me for, Eloise?” Penelope asks. 

“It’s Cressida,” she says, her expression turning graver. “You need to see this video your publication put out.” 

Eloise hands Penelope her phone, clicking the video on her company’s website under the news category. In the video, Cressida’s addressing the camera, looking fake flustered and babbling until the interviewer behind the camera finally gets back on topic. 

That topic being that she’s Lady Whistledown. 

Penelope’s jaw drops as she listens to Cressida take credit for years of work Penelope’s done, something she prides herself in and built from the ground up. 

Cressida claims that keeping this secret has taken its toll and that it was finally time for her to go public. 

Because if there’s anything Cressida loves, it’s publicity. 

“She’s claiming to be Whistledown,” Penelope says, her voice almost a whisper. 

“I don’t buy for a second,” Eloise says, taking back her phone. “That woman can only talk about what a celebrity’s ship name should be. She’s also terrible at it. When Chris Evans was spotted with Lily Collins, she called them ‘Chrilly,’ when ‘Lily Evans’ was right there!” 

Penelope feels a little dizzy, the video of Cressida taking an identity she’s clung to for years, using it to express herself when she couldn’t find her voice, plays over and over in her mind. 

She feels Colin’s hand on his arm. “Penelope, are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” she nods stiffy. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Eloise adds, brows drawn in concern. “You’ve gone white as a sheet.” 

“I think I’m just tired. I—uh, I need to go.”

She begins to walk towards the door, but Eloise stops her. 

“Penelope, we have to do something. She can’t take credit for all the good Lady Whistledown has done. It’s not right.” 

Penelope sighs. “No, it’s not. But what can we do?” 

“We can discredit these claims, find proof that she’s lying, and tell your boss to take the video down or do a retraction.” 

Colin steps forward and puts a hand on her shoulder. “You two can save all your spy missions for tomorrow. It’s getting late.” 

Penelope takes the out, letting Colin lead her out of the house.

They call an Uber, and Colin reaches for one of the free water bottles the driver sat out. 

“Here, you should drink some water.”

She pushes it away. “I can handle myself, Colin.”

“I know you can. I’m just trying to help.” 

“I’m sorry,” Penelope exhales, shaking herself out of her thoughts of the video. “It’s just...I don’t like being treated like I’m some fragile thing. I’m stronger than people think.”

“You are,” Colin agrees ardently. “But even strong people should have someone to lean on. You don’t need to bear all the weight yourself.”

She looks at Colin and feels a familiar ache residing in her stomach, the small ounce of guilt that’s always there for lying about everything involving The Whistle. 

“You don’t even know what weight you’re asking to take on,” Penelope mumbles. 

“Then tell me,” Colin says, leaning towards her. “What’s got you so upset. Is it the Cressida thing?”

“Yes, but it’s more than that. I can’t explain it, at least, not all right now,” she says, rubbing her forehead. “I want to tell you, though, I promise you.” 

He looks a bit disappointed but nods. Penelope drops her head onto his shoulder, and he puts an arm around her. She begins to relax against him, and her eyes drift close. 

“Pen?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I really like you,” Colin whispers.

Penelope grins. Despite all the crap she’s going to have to deal with in the morning, figuring out how to discredit Cressida without outing herself, she seizes onto the bliss of being in Colin’s arms. 

“I really like you too.” 

When they get back to her place, Colin gives her a hand out of the car, and he doesn’t let go of her hand until they both separate in the hallway into their rooms.

🐝 🐝 🐝

She’s sitting near the window the next morning, discussing Cressida’s attempt at fame by taking on Lady Whistledown’s moniker with Colin, who’s cooking in the kitchen. 

“No one believes her,” Colin says, “So if you were worried about your publication losing its credibility, you have nothing to worry about.” 

“She won’t stop, though. She wants to be successful, and she doesn’t care if that success is built on lies.” 

“But she’ll try something else. No one believes she’s Whistledown. Once she realizes this chase of fame is a lost cause, she’ll back off.”

“I hope so.”

“Why don’t we do something to get your mind off everything?” 

“Does your plan involve burnt toast?” she asks, biting back a smile. 

“Uh, no. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed. But when I was making the eggs, I forgot about the toast. And your toaster is abnormally hot, and my pancakes were a little too lumpy and—.” 

“Colin, it’s alright,” she says with a laugh. “I appreciate the thought.” 

“Yeah, but you can’t eat a thought,” he mutters bitterly. 

“We could go out somewhere.” 

“Excellent idea,” Colin says, quickly putting on his shoes like a child who just heard the sound of an ice cream truck coming down the road. “What about some crepes?”

“Sounds good. Let me get my coat.” 

“Wait, allow me.” 

He grabs her pea coat from the rack and puts it on her from over her shoulder. As she slinks her arms through the sleeves, his hands linger on her shoulders. He begins to massage them gently. She hates the way she so easily melts from his touch but can’t seem to care as he begins to pepper feather-light kisses onto her collar bone. 

“I thought you wanted to do something?” Penelope asks. 

“Well, this is also doing something,” Colin hums, softly brushing his lips against her neck. 

“It’s distracting me. I’ll give you that.” 

As she turns around, beginning to lean on her toes to kiss him, her stomach growls. 

“And the moments gone,” she laughs. 

“No, it’ll just be a different kind of moment,” Colin chuckles, tugging her hand and walking back towards the door. “Let’s go get something to eat and put this on pause.”

“Definitely just a pause,” Penelope agrees. “We’ll be getting back to that.” 

“Oh, absolutely.”

🐝 🐝 🐝

Penelope and Eloise spend the entirety of the next day trying to figure out how to disprove Cressida’s claims. But it seems like the internet is doing that for them.

All the comments on her video call her a liar, pointing out inconsistencies with her story with what they know about Lady Whistledown. Youtube comments are usually the last place anyone should look for comfort, but they ease her and Eloise’s worries. Maybe this whole thing will go over.

Penelope knows the best way to speed up that process is to write a new post on her blog. After all, hearing from Lady Whistledown herself that she’s not Cressida is a sure-fire way to make Penelope’s headache go away.

After Eloise finally leaves the flat after two hours of scheming and one hour of talking about a new book they’re both reading, Penelope gets out her laptop. But when she tries to log into her account that hosts her blog, she keeps getting a pop-up that says incorrect password.

She frowns as she’s used the same password for all of her electronics for years. Her hands begin to sweat on her keys. The only reason why the password she’s used since she created the blog wouldn't be working is if it got changed. 

But she knows for a fact she didn’t change it.

So, someone did, at that same someone knows she’s Lady Whistledown. 

As she hears the key turning in the front door, she slams her screen shut. 

Colin walks in, dressed in a nice blazer in slacks as he just came from a financial meeting to help him figure out how to organize his funds for his new business.

“Hey Pen, did you have a good day sleuthing with Eloise?” he asks.

She fidgets on the stool. “It was fine. Not much sleuthing to do really, the comment section below her video is doing that for us.”

“See? I told you this would work itself out,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

After they went out for breakfast yesterday, they hadn’t had a chance to un-pause what they started that morning or even talk about what happened the night before and what it meant. She had to go to work, and Colin had to babysit for his nieces unexpectedly. Daphne had to rush Simon to the hospital after playing a football game with a few of his mates and twisting his ankle.

They’d both been preoccupied all day today, too, only now getting the chance to be in the same room for more than two minutes. Now that they were, Penelope wasn’t sure what to do or say.

What were they to each other? I mean, of course, they were friends, but they had to be something more now, right? They’d kissed, Colin had told her he was starting to see her differently, as something more. So, Daphne had to have been right at the party. Maybe they were on the brink of something really good.

But maybe she was reading everything wrong. Maybe it was just a fleeting moment, and Colin had said more than he actually meant. 

She walks up to him, her hands swinging at her sides. “So, Colin.” 

“So, Penelope,” he says, looking amused. 

“What’s going on with us?” she blurts, causing him to still. “I mean, what are we now? Are we even anything? Or am I being too presumptuous? Or—.” 

He grips her arms. “Pen, relax.” 

“Telling someone to relax doesn’t relax them.”

“Does telling the girl you’re really into that they’re dating relax her?” 

Penelope feels her heart lurch in her chest. “But we haven’t gone out on a date yet.” 

“Yeah, we did yesterday,” he refutes. “We ate crepes, I spilled orange juice on the floor, we talked about the overwhelming about of content Disney is coming out with, but how we’ll watch it all anyway, you were there.”

“But for a date to be a date, you should know going in that it’s a date. I feel like we’re skipping a bunch of steps.”

“Maybe we are, but we’ve known each other for so long, so maybe we don’t need those beginning of a relationship steps. We know what our childhoods were like, where the other went to school, and one another’s likes and dislikes.”

Penelope realizes he’s right, but that makes whatever this is between them feel like it could be more easily broken without enough foundation. 

Colin notices her worry, stepping closer to her.

“Okay, we’ve gone a long time saying things to one another without actually saying anything clearly. So, I’m just going to say this.” He takes a deep breath and begins to smile. “I want to be in a relationship with you. That may seem fast, but we should go at what pace is natural for us.”

She grins softly, feeling a sense of bliss at the way he uses the term “us.” 

“So, what do you think?” he asks. 

“I think that I want that too,” Penelope says, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “A relationship with you.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really,” she smiles. “If I didn’t make it clear enough in the garden that I want this, want you, I could make it even more clear.” 

He raises his eyebrow. “Oh really, how?” 

“By doing something only someone in a relationship would do.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Going to a Bridgerton game night tonight.” 

His mouth parts in surprise, and she can’t believe she’s suggesting it herself. 

Bridgerton game nights are notoriously known for being filled with fighting, screaming, and heated competitions. Every non-Bridgerton avoids them like the plague. Because of previous incidents, they don’t usually play with anyone outside the family unless they bring someone as a date. But that doesn’t happen very often, as the Bridgerton game nights have a track record for causing break-ups. 

“Are you sure?” Colin asks. “I know they can be…intense.” 

“I’m sure,” Penelope says with a mischievous grin. “I can be competitive when the occasion calls for it. Did you hear about the capture the flag game I played with Eloise during first-year orientation at university?” 

“No, but now I must know.” 

“Let’s just say it involved a certain someone crawling on top of one of the school buildings to hide a flag and another someone tripping some poor first year student and making him land into a mound of mud.” 

“Was one of these someone’s you and the other one Eloise?”

She leans up on her toes, whispering near his ear, “Just watch out for your feet tonight.”

Penelope nudges her toe against his and plans on pulling away. But he grabs her waist, lifting her feet off the floor. She giggles as Colin twirls her in the air and finds it hard for her smile to fade. 

🐝 🐝 🐝

When she enters the Bridgerton house, she’s immediately pulled into a hug by Eloise.

“I can’t believe I had to hear from Benedict of all people that you two are together.”

“I’m sorry,” Penelope winces. “A lot has been happening during the past few days.”

“I know. Did you see the latest post on The Whistle? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Penelope freezes. “What latest post?”

“Uh, the one she put up this morning, talking about Danbury’s party,” Eloise explains. “It didn’t sound anything like her normal posts. I don’t know how Cressida got a hold of her blog.”

Penelope shakes her head, not knowing either. But then she thinks back to that day in her office, where Cressida had approached her and Colin. She remembers closing the screen, but maybe she didn’t log out like she usually did. Cressida could have gone onto her computer and found her blog. 

As she thinks this over, Benedict greets her with a grin. 

“I’m so glad my brother finally got his head out of his ass. He’s lucky to be with you.”

Penelope blinks, managing a smile in return. 

“Can I say that I’ve been expecting this for years?” Anthony says from the couch. “Because I have.”

“So has everyone. You’re not special, Anthony,” Daphne rolls her eyes. 

“Everything thought we’d get together?” Penelope asks, her voice a pitch higher. 

“Apparently, they had a betting pool going,” Colin says, rejoining her side after helping Mrs. Bridgerton with something in the kitchen. 

“Which I won,” Kate says proudly beside Anthony. She takes out a wad of money from her purse, waving it in Anthony’s face. “I always win.”

“Don’t be so cocky,” Anthony seethes. “I was only off by a week!”

“What are you going to do with the money anyway?” Eloise asks her.

“I should say I’m putting it towards our kids’ university fund, but I think I’m going to use it to pay for flute lessons.”

“Which she desperately needs,” Anthony mutters, earning him an elbow from Kate in his side.

“So, is everyone ready for the game night to commence?” Benedict asks.

“Can one ever be ready for a Bridgerton game night?” Simon mutters, taking a swing of his glass of wine.

“Hey, you knew what you were signing up for when you married me,” Daphne says, hooking her arm through his. The gesture causes Simon to soften a little, the corner of his lips twitching.

“That is actually a great lead up into the game I’ve chosen,” Benedict announces. 

He walks over to the other end of the room, where an object is cloaked in a drape. He pulls it off with a flourish, revealing a board full of notecards that are all categorized by subjects and points.

“We’re playing the newlywed game!” 

“But some of us aren’t newlywed,” Eloise points out.

“You don’t have to be married to play. It’s for couples at any stage of their relationship, even new ones,” Benedict adds, looking at Penelope and Colin. “Eloise, you can read the questions, as you love keeping everyone on task and telling people what to do.”

Eloise relents with a shrug. She does both of those things. 

“I will keep the score and give everyone these whiteboards to write down their answers.”

He begins passing out the whiteboards, and everyone settles onto the couch. She sits beside Colin and relaxes as he reaches to hold her hand.

“You sure you don’t want to back out before the blood bath?” Colin asks her.

“I’m not one to back away from a challenge,” Penelope says, and then leans towards Colin and whispers, “Plus, it won’t be our blood. We’ll smoke them.”

There’s a glint of desire in Colin’s eyes, but it becomes more focused as they begin the game. 

They do pretty well, answering questions about one another’s favorite movies, embarrassing moments, and who is most likely to deal with a spider (Penelope). So far, out of twenty questions, they’ve only missed three. They didn’t know one another’s star signs because neither of them is into astrology, what the first who takes longer in the shower (which Penelope knows is her, but she would never admit it) and what’s their partner's dream job (Colin put down talk show host which he’d be great at but Penelope knows he’s already doing what he wants to do). 

But the other couples do well too. Anthony and Kate only have missed two questions, and Daphne and Simon have missed five, which puts Colin and Penelope in second place.

As the last few questions draw near, the tension in the room is strong. But she finds herself thriving on it, getting just as heated and competitive as everyone else (well, maybe except for Anthony, who whoops out loud every time he and Kate get one right). 

“What’s your partner’s guilty pleasure?” Eloise asks. “Simon, you’re up first.”

“Watching the _Twilight_ films,” Simon answers, turning around his whiteboard. “She watches them all every few months.”

Benedict laughs. “Seriously, Daff?”

“I know the relationships in them are toxic, but that baseball scene deserves an Oscar. I stand by that,” she says proudly. “Which is why it’s not a guilty pleasure. I put down buying new hats.”

“How is that a guilty pleasure?” 

“Because I never wear hats, known of them look good on me, but I always think the next hat will be the right one. But it never is.”

“She has a whole drawer filled with them,” Simon adds. 

“Alright, Anthony, your turn,” Eloise says, turning to the next couple. “What’ s Kate’s guilty pleasure?”

“Laddo’s,” he answers quickly. “Specifically, homemade ones based on a Sharma family recipe.”

“It’s one of the things I cook that Anthony can actually eat,” Kate says, showing her board with the same answer. “He’s horrible with spicy foods.”

“I’m not horrible with spicy foods!”

“When you first had dinner with Mary, Edwina, and I, you drank two entire pitchers of water.”

Anthony fidgets. “I had worked out before the dinner. I was parched.”

“Colin, you and Penelope are up,” Eloise says. “What’s her guilty pleasure?”

Colin flips around his board. “Playing _Panic at the Disco_ while cooking pasta, and then when it’s done watching a crappy reality show.”

“That’s so specific,” Simon says, looking bewildered. 

Penelope turns her board with a triumphant smile. “And exactly what I put down.” 

“You guys are scary good at this game,” Daphne admits, but she sticks up her chin defiantly. “But I will never accept defeat.”

“Neither will we,” Colin states. 

Anthony huffs. “You guys are crazy if you think I won’t win.”

Kate arches her brows. “Did you mean to say ‘Kate and I’?” 

“Of course,” Anthony shifts nervously, “that was implied.”

“Guys, remember, it’s just a game,” Benedict reminds them from the corner, but Penelope sees how much he’s delighting in being the cause of this chaos.

“No game is just a game in the Bridgerton house!” Colin proclaims. 

“Do you ever regret marrying into this family?” Penelope whispers to Simon, who sits on the other side of her. 

“I have had the passing regrets, yes,” he says with a low chuckle. “Get out while you can, Penelope.”

“Next question!” Eloise announces, regaining the attention of the room. “Where did you and your partner share your first kiss?”

Penelope begins to write on the board with her marker but pauses. She knows that she should put down the answer that Colin will most certainly have on his board, but she can’t bring herself to do it. Her hand seems to move instinctually, writing the truth against her better judgment. 

“We went out dancing and kissed under the stars,” Daphne answers first, with a dreamy look in her eyes. 

“Gross,” Eloise says, puckering her lips as the two share a kiss. “Kate and Anthony?”

Kate squirms, turning around a blank board. “I, uh... don’t recall.”

Anthony’s eyes widen. “What are you talking about? You remember!” 

“No, I don’t,” she says thinly, shooting him a glare. 

He sighs. “Kate, we’re not losing the game because you’re embarrassed about hiding under my desk.”

Daphne’s mouth drops open. “You hid under his desk?” 

She hides her face in her hands. “I was trying to avoid him.” 

“By hiding in his office?” Colin asks amusingly. 

“I didn’t know it was his office,” Kate defends instantly. “This house is crazy big!” 

“Our first kiss was in that office,” Anthony begins to describe, turning around his board. “We started arguing, I pulled you towards me, and then we—.” 

“That’s enough,” Eloise interrupts, waving her hands in the air. “You guys lose a point out of putting that image in my mind.”

Anthony protests, but his words are stifled by the sound of the entire room’s laughter. 

Eloise points to the next couple. “Penelope and Colin, your turn.” 

“Well, I guess this one is easy for us because it was recent,” Colin admits, giving Penelope a gentle smile that she can’t find in her to return. Colin turns his board around. “At Ms. Danbury’s party in the garden.” 

Everyone looks at Penelope expectantly.

“Uh,” Penelope swallows anxiously. “That’s also what I said.” 

Eloise nods. “Great, show your board.” 

She turns it face down on her lap. “I’d rather not.” 

“You have to, for proof,” Anthony insists. 

She doesn’t move the whiteboard, her chest rising and falling at a more rapid pace. 

Colin begins to frown, his eyes searching hers in worry. “Pen? What’s wrong?” 

She looks up at Eloise, doing what only best friends can do, communicating with no words. Eloise’s expression transforms into understanding. 

She claps her hands together, so everyone takes their eyes of Penelope. “Why don’t we take a break?” 

“Good idea,” Daphne nods, looking confused but sensing that something significant is happening that doesn’t call for their presence. “It’ll give Simon, and I time to strategize and catch up.” 

“I have a feeling this will involve flashcards,” Simon tells them before following his wife out of the room. 

Anthony stands. “Kate, do you want to go in my office, try to re-visualize one of our best moments together?” 

“I don’t know if it was one of our best moments,” Kate says, a ghost of a smirk on her face. “If I can’t recall it, it must’ve not been all that notable.”

“Oh really?” There’s a roughish glint in his eyes as he pulls Kate up from the sofa. “Then let me jog your memory.” 

As the two scurry off as fast as they can, which isn’t that fast due to Kate’s pregnant belly. 

Eloise grimaces. “Can I get rid of all their points for the gross subtext of that?” 

“No point, Anthony probably has it memorized,” Benedict says, joining Eloise as they leave the room. 

Once Penelope and Colin are left alone, silence sits heavy in the room. 

“Penelope?” 

She stands abruptly. “I’m just going to…uh, not be here.”

She practically runs out of the room, going out to the deck. Colin follows her. Once she reaches the railing, bracing her hands on it, she feels Colin’s hands resting on her shoulder. 

“What did you put down?” he asks. 

She grips the railing tighter. “Nothing, can we just forget about it?” 

“No, I don’t want to forget about it.” 

“Why? You’ve obviously forgotten about other things,” Penelope mutters. 

Colin frowns deeply. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you,” she exhales, slowly turning to face him. “I don’t blame you for not remembering. It just sucks that you easily forgot a moment that meant so much to me.” 

“Okay, I’m lost,” Colin voices. “You’re going to have to give me a few hints here.” 

The situation is not funny at all, but part of her wants to laugh. She shouldn’t have brushed away the danger of a Bridgerton game night. Even though she easily put up with the family’s cut-throat competitiveness, she should’ve known no game night ends without some sort of drama. She also should’ve known it would involve her. It’s probably karma from writing about everyone else’s drama on her blog. 

The thought of The Whistle reminds her of what Eloise told her earlier, about Cressida posting on her blog, trying to take it over and claim herself as Lady Whistledown. Penelope feels a wave of panic over that fact, but it’s stifled when she meets Colin’s eyes. 

If this is going to work between them, she has to be honest. It’ll take baby steps, so she’ll start with what answer she wrote down first and save everything concerning The Whistle for another day. 

“Do you remember the night before you left for university?” she asks. 

“Vaguely,” Colin says, turning his head up in thought. “My family threw me a going-away party, where they showed embarrassing pictures of when I was a kid, and I got a bunch of handshakes from family members that I had no idea I was related to.” 

“It didn’t happen at your going away party. It happened at the after-party when all the parents left.” 

“Oh yeah,” he nods, memories of the night returning to him. “Benedict made all those cocktails at his place that he called ‘so long, drink some rum.’” 

“You invited Eloise and me to come, even though we were in grade nine and stuck out like a sore thumb at the party. We ended up spending most of the night making fun of the stupidly drunk sixth form students, or in your case, a stupid drunk almost university student.” 

“Yeah, most of that night is kind of fuzzy. I remember the rum, there was a game of pall mall in the living room that broke Benedict’s lamp, and I woke up in my bed with only one sock the next morning,” Colin recalls with a laugh and then tilts his head at her. “What does that night have to do with anything?” 

She takes a deep breath, bracing herself. “Because I put down that night on my whiteboard, it was our first kiss.” 

Colin’s eyes widen in shock. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. If I acted inappropriately—.”

“No, it wasn’t like that, don’t worry,” she reassures him quickly. “I was walking you home, and you were complaining about one of your socks being a shade darker than the other, and you threw it over a fence.”

“So that’s where it went,” he acknowledges and then waves her on. “Continue.” 

“Well, once we made it into your room, I put the covers over you. When I started to walk away, you grabbed my hand. You started saying all this stuff, about how you were going to miss me and how I should join the jump-roping club—.”

“Why did I say that?”

Penelope smiles. “I was confused too. But then you said it was because one of your first memories of me was seeing me play jump rope with Eloise and Daphne.” 

“Oh yeah. It was so hot outside, and your red hair was all loose as you were jumping up and down. Each curl looked like blazing flames as they caught the sunlight,” he recalls, his expression affectionate as he thinks back to that day. “I remember thinking, now there’s a girl who has so much life to spend, and I want to be a part of that life. I joined you in the middle of the rope.” 

“You had this soft look on your face after you told me that,” Penelope says. “It didn’t last more than three seconds, but you leaned forward and kissed me.” 

“I did?” 

“Yep,” Penelope says, blushing. “Then you proceeded to fall back onto your bed and started to snore.” 

“I can’t believe I don’t remember that,” he says, rubbing a hand on his face as he takes in this information. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

“I asked you if you were looking for a sock the next morning before you left, and you looked at me strangely. You didn’t know how I knew you were missing one. That’s when I realized you didn’t remember anything from that night,” she says and then chuckles sadly. “Well, you remembered plenty, but the portion about me you just forgot.” 

He blanches. “Penelope...”

“I think—no, I know, that I’ve always had feelings for you, Colin,” Penelope says with a small smile. “You know it too.” 

Colin bites his lips, nodding slowly. 

Penelope knows he knew how she felt about him all this time. Or, at least, had some inclination. She thought they finally were on the same page. But maybe, Penelope had written far too many for them ever to be on the same one. 

“Can we ever be on equal footing?” Penelope asks quietly. “I feel like if we see where this goes, we’ll never be close to being in the same place. I know you said you are starting to feel something deeper for me, but I’ve been at the bottom of that ocean for years. Being unloved is painful but being half-loved seems like it could be worse.” 

“Penelope, I can’t go back and change the past. If I could, we’d have been here years ago,” he says, his hands on both of her arms. “But just because I’m a little late doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t as strong as yours. You know me, I don’t do things halfway. I don’t love things halfway either.” 

She sucks in a breath. “Colin…”

“I’m all in this, I’m all yours,” he says firmly, his eyes burning hot into hers. “I will do everything it takes for you to believe that, to believe how deep my feelings for you go because you deserve someone who will go to the depths of the ocean for you.” 

“What if at the bottom of the ocean, I’m surrounded by jellyfish?” she asks, laughing lightly. 

He smiles. “Every sting would be worth it if it meant getting to you and making you see how much I care about you.” 

She nods to the door, feeling a weight off her shoulders. “So, should we go back inside and show your siblings that we’re far superior then them.” 

Colin brightens, pulling her towards him. “I don’t prove that to them. I already know it.” 

When they begin to kiss, Penelope forgets about pages entirely, as they’re starting a new book together.

🐝 🐝 🐝 

Penelope plans to corner Cressida in the morning, confront her about what she’s doing and get her to stop all of her attempts to get people to believe she was the writer of The Whistle.

But early that morning, she opens the door to see Cressida waiting for her. 

“You’re finally ready. I’ve been waiting out here for twenty minutes,” she says and holds out a coffee with a too kind smile. “Need a pick me up?”

Penelope shuts the door behind her quickly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Cressida gasps. “Is that any way to treat the person who got you coffee?”

Penelope pushes the coffee away, and Cressida rolls her eyes.

“Are you seriously upset with me? You were the one dumb enough to leave yourself logged into your blog at work for anyone to see.”

“What were you doing snooping on my computer?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not interesting enough to snoop on,” Cressida scans her, raising an eyebrow. “Or perhaps you are. You as Lady Whistledown, I would have never guessed someone so un-notable could be her.”

“You won’t be able to post on the blog anymore. I contacted the site and reset the password and took down your previous post,” Penelope says. “So, your game is over.” 

“My game is far from over,” Cressida laughs, peering over her in her tall heels. “I came here to offer you a deal. You can keep writing, which will save me the time of doing it, and all I ask is you stop discrediting that I’m Lady Whistledown.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because If you don’t, I have some friends that can easily get me back into your account,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Then, I will air all the dirty laundry the Bridgerton’s have on your blog.”

“They don’t have any dirty laundry.” 

“It doesn’t matter. I can make it up, and people will believe it anyway. You know that people love good gossip. It doesn’t matter if it’s true.”

Penelope’s confidence begins to crack. Cressida notices this, stepping closer to her, so Penelope’s back hits the wall. 

“I’ll say that all of Benedict’s paintings are frauds, that he paid some poor artist to do it, and he’ll lose all credibility. I’ll plant suspicion at Anthony’s law firm. Embezzlement is all the rage these days. The Bridgerton family business will crumble in disgrace.”

Penelope shakes her head at her, but it doesn’t dissuade Cressida’s wicked grin. 

“I’ll say that Mrs. Bridgerton took a note from Lori Laughlin, playing for all her kids to get accepted into their universities. I’ll say Daphne is having an affair with one of Simon’s teammates. I’ve wanted to show everyone they’re not the starlight couple you see on the covers of magazines, anyway.”

“Stop,” Penelope whispers, finding it hard to get any other words out. 

“I’m not stopping there. I’ll end It all by posting on The Whistle about the two Bridgerton’s closest to you,” Cressida says venomously. “Maybe I pay off people to say they witnessed Eloise having inappropriate relationships with a student. She’ll get fired and will never get to work again.”

Penelope feels nauseous, the thought of her best friend losing her dream job and everything because of her making her feel faint. She braces her hands against the wall, trying to keep herself upright.

“Then there’s Colin, who I know you’ve always had a schoolgirl crush on,” she says coldly. “I’ll use your own pen name to take him down. I would tell you how, but then I’d miss seeing the surprise on your face when it happens.”

“Why are you doing this?” Penelope asks angrily. “Why do you want to be Lady Whistledown so badly?”

“Because in this world, success doesn’t just get handed to you. You have to do what you can to get what you deserve,” she says, her viciousness fading a little, replaced with desperation. “And you’re going to let me pretend to be her because I know you wouldn’t let anything bad come to the people you see as family.”

Penelope’s breath is shaking as Cressida begins to walk away with a smirk.

Cressida’s right. Penelope won’t let her hurt any of them. If It means making people think Cressida is the Lady Whistledown, that’s a small price to pay. 

But she knows deep down it’s not the only price she has to pay. Lying to Colin about The Whistle has never been fair, but lying about the power Cressida holds over his family and how she can hurt them if Penelope so much as slips up is even worse. 

Later that day, she gets a text from Colin, asking if she wants to do a date night. It’s then she knows what she has to do.

She just hopes she’s strong enough to do it.

🐝 🐝 🐝

“We should go to Greece,” Colin suggests after they’re on their way home after watching a showing of an older movie at the theatre. 

“What?” Penelope asks. She’d barely heard any of the dialogue the entire movie due to the buzzing in her ears. She’s also been giving one-worded answers on the walk home, unable to concentrate. 

“We should go there for a trip sometime, to Greece,” he explains. “You would love it there. It has beautiful beaches, great food, so much history, and amazing sunsets.”

She stops walking, blurting out, “Colin, this isn’t going to work.”

“Okay. We don’t have to do Greece. Maybe we could go to Italy. The architecture is just as impressive—.” 

“Not the trip,” Penelope interrupts, taking a deep breath. “Us.”

Colin stills, the smile falling on his face. “What do you mean?” 

“Colin, this—us, it isn’t going to work.”

“Pen, if we’re going too fast, we can slow down. I may have gotten ahead of myself. But—.” 

“It’s not about how fast we’re going,” Penelope interjects, feeling like every word she says is cutting her mouth like a shard of glass. “I just don’t think we could ever end in the same destination.” 

“What are you talking about?”

Penelope takes in a shaky breath. “I can’t do this anymore.”

She starts walking off, not even knowing where she’s going to go. 

“Penelope, Pen, wait!” She keeps walking but is stopped by Colin grabbing her hand. She doesn’t turn around, trying to remain still. “Please! I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, we can work through it.” 

“No, we can’t,” she whispers, hearing the way her words shake. “Let me go.”

“No, I can’t,” he says weakly. “Not when we just got here. Not when you’re giving up on this without reason—.” 

“This isn’t what I thought,” she says quickly. 

Colin freezes. “What?” 

Penelope licks her lips, which have started to feel numb, not just because of the cold. 

“I wanted this for a long time, but it’s not what I thought it would be like.” 

She makes a move to turn, hating the pain she sees crossing his expression. But he holds her hand tighter. 

“Penelope, wait. It can be better. _I_ can be better,” Colin assures. “I know I’ve been all over the place, but I’ve never done this before. I mean, I have. But never felt this way before... I’ve never been in love before.” 

Penelope’s eyes begin to glisten. She shakes her head in response, not able to trust her voice. 

“I thought I was in love, but I’ve realized these past few weeks that I didn’t even know what being in love was until now,” he adds with a shattered type of smile. “That may sound cheesy and cliché, but it’s true. I love you.” 

“But I don’t,” Penelope forces out. 

Colin flinches as if he’d been hit. 

Penelope wants to take it back, but she knows she can’t. She knows this is for the best. 

“Let me go,” she whispers, her lips trembling. “Please.” 

He slowly releases his hand from hers, his eyes glued on their hands as they untwine and are greeted by the chill of the night air. 

Penelope quickly turns, running away from him and away from the guy she’s waited her whole life to be with, only for it to fall apart because of a mess she created. 

🐝 🐝 🐝

Her blog posts for the following two days are short. Cressida is sending her heated looks from across the office, but she can’t find it in her to write much. Colin’s pained expression is burned in her mind, and her heart feels knotted up in a way her fingers aren’t nimble enough to untangle. 

Colin didn’t come back to the flat after they parted on the street, and his things were gone the next morning, making the place feel so much emptier than before. 

Penelope’s worried about how things would be with Eloise after everything that happened with Colin, but Eloise texted her earlier this morning, asking to meet at her office so they could go out and get some coffee. Penelope couldn’t imagine drinking any caffeine because she was jittering the entire ride over to the university. 

When Penelope knocks on her door, Eloise’s head snaps up from her computer. 

Eloise goes over to her before Penelope could even utter a word, pulling her into a hug. 

Penelope leans into it, feeling herself begin to crumble. 

“Are you okay?” Eloise asks. 

Penelope shakes her head against Eloise’s shoulder. 

“Do you want to skip the coffee and go right to binge-watching trash reality television?” 

Penelope nods. When she pulls back, she sees the familiar blue eyes that are similar to Colin’s, and she crumbles all over again. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Penelope asks. “You should hate me.” 

“Penelope, I could never hate you,” Eloise assures. “I mean, I’m mad at you for hurting my brother, but I’m also your friend. I want to be there for both of you. It’s quite the position you two have put me in, by the way.” 

“I know,” Penelope says, putting her hand to her forehead. “But it’s not a position you need to be in anymore.” 

“Penelope, I know you didn’t mean anything you said to him,” Eloise sighs, her gaze on Penelope turning analytical. “I just don’t understand why you said it.” 

“I knew it was the only thing I could say to let me go.” 

“But why does he have to let go at all? You two are good for each other.” 

Penelope opens her mouth to respond, but Eloise’s phone ringing cuts her off. 

“Sorry,” she apologizes, pulling her phone from her pocket. She frowns as she looks at the screen. “I’m getting bombarded with messages from my family’s group text. It’s probably just Benedict and Daphne getting into another gif war.” 

“John Mulaney or Fleabag gifs?”

“Neither,” she whispers, staring at her phone. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s Kate,” Eloise says. “She’s going into labor.”

Penelope grins. “That’s amazing. You have to get to the hospital!”

“But my car hasn’t been working, I had to get a lift from Phillip, but he’s in class right now.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you there,” Penelope promises, leading her out of the room. 

They make it there in twenty minutes and practically run up the stairs to the maternity ward. When they do, they see all the Bridgeton’s huddled next to each other in the waiting area, their legs jiggling nervously as they sit. 

“How is she?” Eloise asks her mother. 

“Good. She’s only been in labor for a little over an hour. It took them a while to leave the house because Kate was insistent on finishing up something for work before coming to the hospital.” 

“That sounds like Kate,” Eloise chuckles. “I bet Anthony had an aneurism.” 

Her mother swats Eloise’s arm for suggesting such a thing, but from the look on her face, Anthony’s was probably sweating buckets in there.

Penelope hovers awkwardly as Eloise takes the last chair next to her mother, not knowing what to do. When she begins to back away, a voice stops her dead in her tracks. 

“Did I miss it?” Colin asks, sounding out of breath. 

“Of course, you didn’t.” Benedict rolls his eyes. “How long do you think labor lasts?” 

Colin shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not too versed on the subject for obvious reasons.”

“Thank the lord for that,” Mrs. Bridgerton mumbles. 

He turns around, trying to look for an empty chair, and his eyes widen as he notices Penelope. 

She squirms, putting her hands into her pockets. “Hello, Colin.” 

“Penelope, what are you doing here?”

“Eloise needed a ride.” 

“Oh.” There’s a flash of disappointment, looking between her and Eloise sitting behind them. “I see.” 

Penelope feels a lump forming in her throat, knowing she needs to leave before she does something stupid like cry. 

“Well, I’m going to go—.”

“No, stay.” He reaches out for her arm, but he grimaces, pulling it back awkwardly. “I’m sure Anthony and Kate would want you here.”

“I’d think they’d hate me, after...you know.”

“They don’t hate you.”

Penelope swallows, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “Do you hate me?

He shakes his head fervently. “Pen, I could never hate you.” 

“I’m sorry, Colin,” she says, the words rushing out. 

“What’s there to be sorry about?” he shrugs, smiling tightly. “You were honest with me about how you feel—or more accurately, didn’t feel. That’s all there is to it.” 

“There’s more to it than that,” she insists. “I just don’t know how to tell you.”

His lips twitch upwards, hopefully. “Try using words to formulate a sentence. I heard that usually works.” 

“Colin, there’s things about me you don’t know, I—.” 

Just then, Simon and Daphne run into the room. 

“Did we make it? Has the baby come yet?” Daphne asks through panted breaths. 

“Honestly, you all think the process is as quick as taking cookies out of the oven,” Benedict says dryly. “You have no excuse, Daphne. You’ve given birth to babies.” 

Daphne crosses her arms. “At least I don’t act like a baby.” 

“Children, please,” Mrs. Bridgerton sighs. “Do you want Anthony and Kate’s child to be welcomed into the world to the sound of fighting?” 

“He’s a Bridgerton. He’ll probably join in,” Simon smirks. 

Before Daphne can chastise Simon for his comment, she notices Penelope standing next to them.

Daphne clears her throat, tugging on Simon’s arm. “Dearest, we should go over and get something from the vending machine.” 

“But we just ate,” Simon says. 

“But we’ll probably be hungry later. We’ll be here for a while.”

“I think you have some stuff in the car. I can—.” 

“Simon, I want vending machine food, and the vending machine is over there,” Daphne says, pointedly gesturing to the area on the other end of the room, away from Penelope and Colin. 

“Ah, okay,” Simon says, his voice dawning in understanding. “Let’s go, over there…which is not over here.” 

As they walk away, Penelope turns to Colin with a laugh. “They’ve really mastered the art of subtly.” 

“How they tricked people into thinking they were dating for a month when they weren’t, I’ll never know,” Colin shakes his head. He looks back at Penelope and takes a deep breath. “Whatever it is that I don’t know about you. It couldn’t possibly change the way I feel about you.”

Penelope winces. “Oh, it might.” 

“Is that why you pushed me away because you’re afraid of telling me something?” 

“It’s not that I’m afraid of telling you. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. It’s more that if I do, I’m afraid it will hurt you even more.” 

“Pen, you’re scaring me,” he says, stepping closer. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

She looks around them, seeing his family nearby, a family who he loves more than anything. It would kill him if Cressida followed through on her threat, destroying his family through her absurd claims. 

Penelope doesn’t doubt that if she told Colin she was Whistledown, he wouldn’t tell anybody. But is it worth the risk of staying close to him and watching his life fall apart as the truth eventually gets out? 

“I can’t say,” Penelope mutters, and there’s a flash of disappointment across Colin’s face. “All I can say is that I love you with all I am.” 

Penelope feels lighter once the words are out there, and Colin’s disposition warms. As he reaches out to put a hand to her cheek, it falls as Penelope forces herself to take a step back. 

“I’m only trying to do the right thing.” 

“You think this is the right thing?” he questions, gesturing at a distance between them. When she doesn’t respond, he shakes his head and takes a step back. “I should go over with my family, but this conversation isn’t over.” 

Penelope watches him walk back towards the waiting area. Eloise shoots her a questioning look from across the way, to which she frowns at. 

She leaves the hospital a few minutes later, and it feels like she leaves a piece of herself there too.

🐝 🐝 🐝

It’s around two in the morning when there’s a loud knocking on her door. Penelope considers stuffing her face further into her pillow, ignoring whoever is inconsiderate enough to stop by this late. But as it persists, she gets up with a sigh. 

She didn’t have the energy to change since she returned from the hospital, falling asleep in her jeans and blue blouse. She got a text from Eloise around two hours after leaving, sending a picture of Anthony and Kate on a hospital bed, holding baby Edmund, named after their father. They looked so happy, and it brought tears to her eyes. So, her makeup's probably smudged and her clothes wrinkled, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she approached the door. 

But when she opened it, seeing Colin standing on the other side, she cursed herself for not changing first. 

“What are you doing here?” Penelope asks drowsily. “It’s two in the morning.” 

“I had to see you. There’s something I need to say.” Penelope opens her mouth to protest, but Colin cuts in quickly, “If after what I say, you still think not being together is the best thing, then I won’t bother you again. Please, just hear me out.” 

It’s hard to say no to his pleading look, so she nods. He smiles at this, looking a bit more hopeful. 

“I know there’s something you’re afraid to tell me, that it will somehow change things between us. But it’s not true,” Colin insists. “After you left, there were some complications,” he adds. “Kate had to go into surgery.” 

Penelope’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry. She’s alright,” he reassures. “They just needed to perform a C-section.” 

“Thank God,” Penelope says, releasing a breath. 

“A while after Edmund was born, I was in the hospital room. Everyone else had left by that point to get some sleep, so it was finally my turn to hold Edmund,” he begins to explain. “When I looked up from him in my arms back towards the bed, I watched as Anthony tentatively brushed the hair from Kate’s forehead as she slept. His expression was filled with so much adoration, so much love.” 

Colin steps forward, grabbing her hand. “What I saw between them is a love that doesn’t fade. It just grows stronger, through every hardship or trial.” 

Penelope’s breath hitches as he brings her hand up to his chest. She feels his heart beating quickly but steadfast beneath his shirt. 

“So, believe me when I say that whatever you have to tell me, we can figure it out together. We love one another, and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.” 

Penelope slowly interlocks her fingers with his, meeting his eyes hesitantly. She sees that thing in his eyes that she’s always seen, the thing that made her take that infinite fall for him in the first place. 

“I’ll tell you,” she says, taking in a shaky breath. “But you have to know. I only pushed you away because then Cressida would have less cause to use you and your family as leverage.” 

“Leverage?” Colin frowns in confusion. “What does she have against you?” 

She exhales, pulling Colin into the flat and shutting the door behind them. She nervously paces, chewing on her nails and hearing her mother’s voice in her head chastising her for it.

“Do you remember in secondary school, they made year ten students take that computer class that everyone would slack off in because the teacher had no idea what he was doing and still had dial-up internet at his house?” she asks. Colin nods, and she swallows. “Well, I didn’t slack off. I spent it writing, about people in our school, about the adults that both our mothers made us mingle with at social events, about anyone in our London circle really.” 

Colin stills, pieces of what she’s saying beginning to fall together. His lips part, eyes widening. 

“The blog was never meant to be vindictive. It’s never been about feeling ignored and wanting to take it out on everybody who wasn’t,” Penelope explains, stepping towards him in urgency. “It’s always been about trying to show who people are in their entirety, to make everyone see that we’re all complicated, messy, mostly good-intentioned humans trying to do our best.” 

“What are you telling me?” Colin asks, needing to hear her say it. 

“That I’m Lady Whistledown.” 

For a few seconds, Colin stands there, a dumbstruck look on his face. Penelope feels like melting into a puddle on the floor. 

But then, Colin starts striding towards her. 

Before she can speak, he’s kissing her. 

She’s shell-shocked for a few seconds but kisses him back, her arms going around his neck. It’s a bit messy, his lips hungrily moving against hers, but it’s also perfect. 

After a few moments, he pulls back, his thumb wiping a tear from her cheek. 

“That…was not that reaction I was expecting,” she admits through panted breaths. 

“Penelope, why would you think this would change the way I saw you?” Colin asks. 

“Because I’ve written about your family. You’ve all complained about the things I’ve written—.” 

“You’ve only written the truth,” he interrupts and starts to smile. “While the blog has gotten us into a bit of trouble at times, it’s also done a lot of good for us.” 

Penelope shakes her head, overwhelmed by the love she feels pouring out from him. “I don’t understand.” 

“Pen, you bring clarity, joy, and insight to everyone who reads your blogs. Knowing this doesn’t make me see you differently. It just makes me prouder of you than I already am.”

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Penelope stutters. 

Colin smirks. “You’re Lady Whistledown. Doesn’t she always know what to say?” 

“But I’m also Penelope Featherington, who is known to avoid talking on the phone and who babbles when Colin Bridgerton looks her way.”

“Please don’t ask me to look away again,” he says with a shudder. “These past few days have been awful.” 

“But Cressida is blackmailing me. She knows I’m Lady Whistledown and says she’ll say all these horrid things about your family if I don’t—.” 

He waves her off. “We’ll figure out how to deal with her, but we’ll do it together.” 

“Thank you.” 

“No need to thank me. I’m just going to the depths of the ocean as I told you I would.” 

“We’ve been over this,” Penelope says, lips tilting up. “It’s illogical. You know how many dangerous creatures are lurking at the bottom of the ocean?” 

“None more dangerous than Cressida,” Colin retorts, causing Penelope to laugh. 

She leans up on her toes, smiling against his lips as she kisses him. 

It feels like drowning, but for the first time in the past few days, it also feels like she’s catching her breath.

🐝 🐝 🐝

On Christmas Eve, they invite everyone over to Penelope’s flat. Violet protests about the limited space there, but they calm her nerves by letting her come over early to set up the table and start cooking dinner. 

The Bridgeton’s slowly trickle in throughout the night. Kate and Anthony are last, coming inside with Edmund. 

“He’s going to have a sucky birthday,” Eloise says, cooing at the baby in Kate’s arm. “It’s so close to Christmas. People will probably give him two presents in one.” 

“I expect you all to give him two separate presents,” Anthony declares, smiling down at his son. “Jesus’s birth is important, but—.” 

“If you’re going to say your son’s birth is next to the importance of Jesus, your ego is reaching new heights,” Daphne interrupts. 

“I’m not saying that,” Anthony says but begins to smirk. “What I’m thinking, however, may be up for debate.” 

“Well, Lady Whistledown sure gave him a glowing review,” Kate says. “She claimed his eyes sparkled like Christmas lights on a tree.” 

“Well, Lady Whistledown called Caroline’s eyes as blue as the perfect summer sky,” Simon retorts. “She thinks all babies are beautiful.” 

“All babies are beautiful,” Violet says from the kitchen. 

“Clearly, you haven’t seen the nose on Nigel’s kid,” Colin mutters quietly, causing Penelope to choke a little on her eggnog. 

“Can you believe Cressida is still claiming to be Lady Whistledown?” Eloise questions the room. “I mean, the posts on the blogs have returned to normal, but there’s no way it’s her.” 

“What makes you so sure?” Penelope asks, biting back a smile. 

“She can’t be the perfectly articulate Lady Whistledown because she thinks Oliva Rodrigo’s song lyrics are modern-day poetry.” 

Simon straightens his back against his chair. “Watch what you say about Oliva Rodrigo.” 

Eloise puts her hands up in defense, dropping the subject. 

“So, are you all ready to play the game Colin and I have chosen?” Penelope asks. 

“I don’t see how it’s a game, as no one can really win, but yes,” Anthony says. 

Colin and Penelope had planned to have everyone over at the flat for a specific reason and chose the activity for the night on purpose as well. Before they handled Cressida, Penelope knew she had to break the news to all of them about being Lady Whistledown, so they weren’t a shock once Penelope went public tomorrow. 

So, they came up with the idea of hosting a “PowerPoint night,” where everyone would come up with PowerPoints about a subject of their choosing and present it to the family. Penelope had spent a lot of time on hers and felt nervous just creating it. 

But her nerves dissipated as she sat back and listened to everyone else’s hilarious. Eloise’s PowerPoint was “Ranking everyone based on the stupidest thing you’ve said to me,” which caused as much laughter as arguments, especially from Anthony, who was ranked last. 

Benedict tested everyone by showing pictures of his paintings next to other artists to tell how much his family really knew his work. Anthony was next, and he was titled, “I would fight James Cordon if I saw him on the street, and here’s why.” 

Daphne’s presentation was about how to dress at social events and featured outfits that different family members had worn over the years, causing a bit of embarrassment around the room.

Simon seemed to have the most fun, presenting about the “The Top 10 Things to Know Before You Marry a Bridgerton,” which Kate whooped after every accurate point. 

Violet ranked her favorite holiday photos in her presentation, which brought some tenderness to the room. Still, it was soon replaced with levity again when Colin presented why _Tarzan_ has the best Disney soundtrack. 

Kate went next to last, and her PowerPoint concerning Newton’s Favorite Treats You May Want to Know About Before his birthday, earning many laughs, and eye rolls around the room (mainly from Anthony). 

Finally, it’s Penelope’s turn. She goes to the front of the room, her hands shaking as she casts her PowerPoint to the television screen. 

“My PowerPoint is ‘What Lady Whistledown Thinks of the Bridgerton’s According to Her Blog.’” 

The title earns soft laughter around the room. Penelope looks towards Colin, who nods at her with an encouraging smile. She takes a deep breath and moves to the first slide. 

“Starting with Anthony, she’s written about you being a bit of a playboy in the past, yes. But, she was one of the first ones to guess your connection with Kate, and the part it would play in revealing that compassionate heart,” Penelope says and sees the couple smile at one another. “She thinks you are a decent man, which is evident by the way you treat your family and everyone you encounter.” 

She clicks on the next slide.

“Then, there’s Daphne, who she claimed to be the diamond of the season years ago,” Penelope says. “She did write about a few moments between her and Simon that were a bit gossipy, but she truly believed they were in love, even when both of them wouldn’t admit it.” 

Simon reaches for her hand, and Daphne squeezes it with a smile. 

“Next, we have Benedict, who she thinks is a great artist,” Penelope says. “And who thinks he should go for it with Sophie, who he met at Danbury’s party. He deserves to be happy and has no reason to be afraid.” 

Benedict nods with a gentle smile, and then Penelope turns to Violet. 

“Now, Lady Whistledown has talked about how much Violet wants to set up her kids, but it’s because she admires how much she cares about her kids.” 

Mrs. Bridgerton smiles, and she feels her courage rising as she clicks to the next slide. 

“Now there’s Eloise, who is smart, kind, and is the best friend she could ever ask for.” 

Eloise stills and everyone’s eyes in the room begin to widen. Penelope takes a deep breath before tapping her phone to move the next slide. 

“Lastly, Colin,” she says, looking at him with a shaky smile. “Who she’s pretty fond of writing about, mainly because she’s crazy about him.” 

Colin looks at her, his eyes gleaming. “He’s pretty crazy about you too.” 

“So, in conclusion,” Penelope says shakily, clicking to the last slide. “I know everyone here has had their qualms with Lady Whistledown and her blog. But you have to know how much she loves and respects them. She feels so lucky to have you all in her life—I feel so lucky to have you all in my life.” 

There’s a few beats of silence, and Penelope closes her eyes, unable to see the anger or resentment in them. But she opens them as she feels someone’s arm around her. 

It’s Violet, who pulls back from the hug and smiles brightly at her. 

“I’m so glad you are a part of our family too,” Violet says. “That means we now have two great writers in the family.” 

“We all are happy,” Daphne adds, standing up from the couch and hugging Penelope as well. 

Anthony joins stands beside her. “You make our brother happy, as far as I’m concerned. That’s all that matters.” 

Benedict gets up from the couch, eyes teary. “Oh, come on, let’s all get in here.”

They all join into a big and chaotic group hug, but Penelope can’t help her eyes wandering to Eloise, who is still sitting silently on the couch. 

“Eloise?” Penelope voices nervously. 

Eloise stands but doesn’t meet her eyes. 

“This is great, but—I’m sorry,” Eloise says, running out the door. 

Colin exhales. “Let’s go and talk to her. I can—.” 

“No, I have to talk to her myself,” Penelope says and presses a brief kiss to his cheek. “But thank you.” 

She heads out the door and sees Eloise still in the hall, leaning on the wall. 

Eloise looks up, and tenses. “I’m sorry, I just needed a second.” 

“Look, I should have told you a long time ago. I shouldn’t have told you before anybody else in there, including Colin,” Penelope says. “You’re my best friend, and I shouldn’t have lied to you for so long.”

“How could you let me go on time and time again about trying to find out who Lady Whistledown was if it was you?” 

“I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Eloise shakes her head. “Nothing you could ever do would make you lose me.” 

“I feel like if I did something awful, it might,” Penelope reasons. 

“But you would never do something that bad because I know you,” Eloise says with a small smile. She walks towards Penelope, a more resolved expression on her face. “Even though I didn’t know you were Lady Whistledown, I do know you.”

“So, you know that I really wanted to tell you and how sorry I am?”

She nods with a sigh. “I do know that, and I forgive you.”

Penelope releases a breath in relief and the two hug. 

“In the spirit of full disclosure, you should know what’s going to happen tomorrow,” Penelope says once they part. 

“Please tell me it involves you taking down Cressida.

“It does.” 

Eloise grins. “Then I will be a part of your plan 100%.” 

They both head back inside to start exchanging gifts with everyone. Colin sits close to her side as they unwrap gifts, and Penelope feels like the weight that’s been on her for years has finally lifted.

🐝 🐝 🐝

On Christmas day, Penelope wears a simple red dress while she sits in front of a camera at her office. She told everything to her boss, who decided the story was too big to hold, calling in some of the people at the publication who didn’t have any holiday plans. Penelope felt bad, so she, Colin, and Eloise stopped by Starbucks on their way over and bought everyone hot chocolate. 

As the camera person gets the audio set up, Colin kneels beside her chair. “You ready for this?” 

“I am.” Penelope nods, sitting up straighter in her chair. “Cressida will have no leverage if I out myself as Whistledown, and no one will believe her lies if she posts them on the blog—which she can’t do, thanks to the help from one of Anthony’s clients who installed new security measures on all my accounts.” 

“Great,” Colin smiles. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not. It’s time. I’ve been hiding behind a pen name long enough.” 

“You won’t be able to write on the blog after this, though,” Eloise adds from behind the camera. “If people know you’re Lady Whistledown, you can’t silently observe.”

“I don’t want to observe anymore silently. It’s time I take charge, writing my own narrative instead of others.” She looks back at Colin beside her affectionately. “That narrative involves you, by the way.” 

Colin leans in, kissing her tenderly, making her body feel electric. 

“I was thinking, my luggage is so heavy,” he murmurs as he pulls back to catch his breath. “It would be a shame to take it all to a new flat.” 

She smiles. “That would be a shame.” 

“I could start building roots, a place that’s actually a home that’ll make me want to come back after traveling.” 

“Well, I suppose you could stay at my flat,” she sighs with exaggeration. “But just out of pure convenience, you’re streaming accounts are all logged into the TV anyway.” 

He quirks his head. “Are you saying you want to be with me purely for my TV subscriptions?” 

“No, but it’s a plus.” 

Colin wipes off her smirk by kissing her again. They’re interrupted by the cameraman clearing his throat and signaling that they’re ready to go. 

“You’re on, go show everyone who Penelope Featherington really is,” Colin says, standing up. “I’ll be right behind the camera.” 

“Going to the depths of the ocean?” she asks. 

Colin nods, eyes filled with so much love Penelope feels like she’ll burst. “To the depths of the ocean.” 

He walks behind the camera, and Penelope turns to look into it. When the interviewer counts her down to start, she takes a deep breath before speaking. 

“Happy Christmas, everyone,” she says with a smile. “Instead of posting on The Whistle like usual, I thought I’d give you updates on everything you need to know about how different members of London society are spending the holiday directly from me.” 

Penelope folds her hands in her lap. “Let’s start with Lady Whistledown, who is sitting here talking to all of you watching this.” 

She takes a second, glancing up at Colin, who’s grinning at her. 

Penelope still thinks going to the depths of the ocean is a far too melodramatic phrase, but while looking up at Colin, she finds the phrase to be not fitting enough. 

The depth of what she feels for him is boundless, without an end destination in sight.

The infinite fall for him once felt like a curse, but now, it feels like an adventure that she never wants to end. 


End file.
